


When Angels Fall

by Midnight_Disciple



Series: Angels with Demons [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adam gets a story, Adam is a Pilot, Adam is a teacher, Angst, Anxiety, Background Events in Season 7, Canon Compliant, Flashbacks, Fluff, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Original Character(s), Pilot Adam, Season 7 Spoilers, Shiro and Keith are really only mentioned, Shiro flashbacks, Violence, fluff if you squint, light fluff really, more tags to be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2019-07-16 05:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16079672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight_Disciple/pseuds/Midnight_Disciple
Summary: Two years ago, the love of Adam’s life was declared dead. He’s done his best to put himself back together since then, but it’s been a struggle. He’s had to put all thoughts of his love behind him, keeping them locked away if he ever hoped to be able to breathe again. But when an old friend returns with some startling news, Adam will have to confront all of the demons he's exiled on his journey, making way for a whole new adventure he never expected, never wanted, and may never make it back from.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey ya'll! So, just a little blurb: I was super upset about Adam not really getting a story, so I decided to give him one! I'm gonna try and post every other week, at least, more if I can manage it. It's my first fic, so I hope you like it! 
> 
> Oh and I don't own or have any associations to Voltron (other than my undying love).

_He was running, as fast and as far as his legs would take him. He had no destination in mind, there was no one chasing him. He just knew that if he didn’t hurry, something momentous would happen without him. He thundered down a dirt road lined with trees, a song whistling through their leaves as light played with shadows on the ground._

_A hand stretched out in front of him, beckoning him to pick up his pace, so he could stay beside this stranger who appeared in the wind. He grabbed for the hand in vain, always one step behind. It flustered and frustrated him, until he thought he felt his fingers brush lightly against the man, but it was like his hand sank through his, nothing but a whisper left touching his skin, like a warm breeze on a summer day. Suddenly, the man was no longer a stranger, but had the familiar comfort of an old friend. His friend smiled, brighter than any sun in the universe, and he laughed full and long, so that his slanted eyes glimmered with mirth, and he thought, maybe, this person was more than just a friend._

_Abruptly, they stopped, and it was alarming how quickly the face of the man who had been leading him changed. What had just been radiant was now shadowed, as if darkness had crept from below to engulf the man before him. The air had stilled, and there was no longer any song to accompany dancing leaves. There was nothing but the man before him, shrouded in gloom, fading away before his eyes. He shouted, reaching out, trying to hold this man to him, this man who seemed like the world._

_He fell to the ground and sobbed, wordlessly, looking up at the man whose dark grey eyes held the gravity of a thousand planets, and yet the softness of a drifting feather. He wanted to drown in those eyes, follow this man wherever it was he was being taken, but it was too much. The air was crushing him, and he sank further to the ground, until he was on his hands and knees, head bowed and eyes screwed tightly shut. His breathing was becoming erratic, and before he knew it, the darkness was overwhelming him, and he screamed, brokenly, into a now pitch-black night._

 

* * *

 

 

     When Adam woke that morning, it was slow. He wished it was just because he was taking his time, but it was more like he just couldn’t move. His entire body felt as if it had run a marathon, his muscles weak and straining to fulfill the commands his mind was hazily ordering them to complete. His eyes were practically glued shut, which he was silently grateful for as the sun had already begun to shine through the window.

     When the alarm sounded, he groaned, and even that was painful. Why was he feeling so beat up all of a sudden? He became dimly aware that his sheets were soaked through with sweat, yet he felt inexplicably, piercingly cold. He focused on moving a finger. Just one. After a few seconds of clearing the haze from his mind and willing himself to start the day, the digit moved ever so slightly. He repeated the process until he was able to move his entire arm. He brought his right hand to his face and felt a jolt as a static-like energy moved from his finger to his cheek. It startled him enough that his tired, crusty eyes were wrenched open from the unexpected sensation. His alarm sounded again, and he immediately rolled over onto his side, back facing the window, turning off the alarm, not ready for the sun or the clock to force him out of bed yet.

     Adam stared down at his hand. The jolt wasn’t anything to be distressed about, it was one of those normal instances that just kind of happened. He wasn’t hurt, just surprised. In fact, it had nothing to do with why he couldn’t pry his eyes away from the lines on his cool sienna skin. Something was missing from his hand, something integral, something that had been missing for far too long.

     He closed his eyes, breathing deep. He started drifting, finding himself floating towards the edge of sleep again, his mind grasping for that piece. Glimpses of dream came to him: A warm breeze. A hand. A smile. Those eyes.

_Takashi…_

     Eyes snapping open, Adam balked. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t go down that road any more. Well, it was less of a promise and more of a silent admission that he _couldn’t_ go down that road, not without a great deal of pain and he…he didn’t want to go through that again. Not now, not after all this time. Hopefully not ever again.

     Physically shaking his head enough that he was looking through a slightly blurry curtain of golden chestnut, Adam drove both the thoughts of his past out of his mind, and his screaming body out of bed and into the shower. He let the scorching hot water pound onto his toned and weary torso and limbs, washing away the sweat that had settled on his skin and hair, and the cold that had settled in his bones.

     After another twenty minutes, he turned off the water, head bent and eyes closed, leaning with his hands pressed against the tiled wall, letting the steam clear his sleep-addled brain. When he turned to leave the warm pocket of the shower, however, he ended up tripping on the ledge, launching himself into the porcelain sink. He caught himself, just barely, and stared in the mirror as his wet hair sent rivulets down his face. He watched as they curved around his cheek and dripped from his angled jaw, noting how they looked so uncannily like tears. His eyes locked with those of darkest hazel, nearly brown, and he chided himself when he noticed the dark circles that took residence beneath his lashes.

 _God, I look wrecked_ , he thought, laughing deprecatingly. He dipped his face and turned on the faucet, splashing himself, as if he hadn’t just been smacked with the high water pressure for thirty minutes, as if that one last sprinkle would just magically fix the damage that had been done in his restless sleep.

     He brushed his teeth, and towel-dried his hair. He put on his glasses, the fog caused from the steam in the room nearly gone, just barely clinging to the edge of the sporty, charcoal frames. He padded along the cold floor back to his bedroom, towel draped on his hips, wondering what he should make himself for breakfast. A glance to the clock on the bedside table made him drop his towel as his heart stopped, any thought of sustenance dashed. 7:19 AM.

     “Shit,” his voice rasped, and he briefly reveled that his throat didn’t feel quite as sore as it had earlier, “I’m going to be late.”

     Dashing to the closet, Adam dressed as quickly as he could without toppling over, not an easy task as his long limbs tangled in the legs of his uniform trousers. Cursing to himself, he didn’t even stop to button his coat or take fruit from the bowl on the kitchen counter before grabbing his bag, his hat, and his keys and sprinting out the door.

 

* * *

 

 

 _Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit_ was the only thing running through Adam’s mind as he reached the main gate of the Garrison. He stopped, doubling over with his hands on his knees, panting, waving a meek hand at passersby, too uncaring and rather hurried themselves to say anything. He willed himself to calm down, feeling the heat in his face and the sweat that was accumulating on his back under the dark grey, Garrison-issued coat.   _Who the hell thought this was a good sartorial choice in the middle of the fucking desert?_ he swore, straightening up and wincing at the drop of perspiration that shot down the center of his lower back.

     Careful not to dislodge his hat, Adam wiped the offending sweat from his brow with the orange cuff of his sleeve, and huffed one last breath before making his way closer to the building. He lodged himself into the throng of cadets, officers, and administrative personnel that crowded through the entry points, flashing their credentials as they passed the security officers - a tedious measure considering they also had to swipe their identification for entry, but who was Adam to complain. _You’re a very late, very sweaty teacher, that’s who_ he mused, shifting his weight from one foot to the other impatiently, waiting for the line to move along. He looked around, tapping his finger against the strap of his satchel, pouting slightly at the glacier pace everyone seemed to have adopted that morning. Although, Adam was typically early for his shifts, so maybe this was the norm at this time.

     Now that he was pretty much forced into a standstill, Adam found himself thinking back on the dream he’d woken up from. The details were getting fuzzier, the only ones remaining belonging to the face he’d been trying his best to forget. Dark hair and grey eyes swam through his vision, and he blinked, rapidly, as if that would make the features less real to him. But two years since he’d seen that face in person, and he could still picture everything perfectly. Falling asleep and waking up next to someone every day will do that to a person.

     Lost in chastising himself for pulling up memories of warm, lazy mornings he’d thought he’d had better control over, Adam almost missed the prickling on his skin and the hairs on his neck standing on end, the way they did when he was being watched. He’d had enough experience as of late with people watching him and whispering about him behind his back to know what the feeling was. He tilted his chin up, searching the lines of people, before he spotted her.  She was ahead of him, just about to enter through the gate. He made a move towards her, momentarily forgetting he was in a line. His mouth opened and the beginnings of a name bubbled up his throat, but he didn’t even manage to get out a syllable. As soon as he caught sight of her, the small woman turned away, swiftly flashing a visitor’s badge, and her mop of blonde hair disappeared from sight.

     Dejected, Adam turned back to his own line. He couldn’t be sure she was who he thought she was, having hidden her face from his view, and, in fact, it seemed somewhat unlikely. _But what if it was her…?_ The question whispered through his mind, but before he could contemplate what he would do if it was her, or how he would even approach her, he was stirred from his reverie by the stocky security officer in front of him, waving him forward. When Adam didn’t move, his brain still caught in the cobwebs of restless sleep and surprise, the officer scowled.

      "Identification,” he prompted, obviously irritated.

      “What? Oh! Right, yes, um…” Adam opened his bag, fishing around for the laminated card. Finally hitting the hard piece of plastic with his fingers, he held it up for the officer to see, and he was waved through.

      He approached the sealed doors, his last stop before he could gain entry to the grounds. He swiped his card into the panel on the left of the structure. It immediately granted his access, and he stepped through, the doors sliding shut behind him. He heard the officer call “Next!” from the other side as he took in the people around him. Everyone was rushing to their destinations, save for a few officials here and there who were talking amongst themselves. Adam tried to find the woman who had hurried away from him, searching the crowd for an unadorned blonde head. When all he took in were the grey felt berets of his fellow officers, however, he decided to give up.

      Glancing down at his watch, there was an immediate panic at realizing the time. Every thought rushed out of his head as he started jogging towards the building directly across from him, throwing his arm out in a hasty, unfocused wave to anyone who called out to greet him. The doors slid open, and he rushed in to find that inside the building wasn’t nearly as crowded as the grounds. He sent a silent “thank you” to the infinite No One, and sprinted down the halls towards the education wing.

     Seeing the doors in sight, Adam picked up his speed. He was just about to approach the mouth of the adjoining hall right before the entrance to the wing when he noted two voices coming towards him. He wasn’t sure how he picked up on them over the pulse in his ears, but he slowed his pace so as not to collide with the figures. Trying to regain control of his breath, Adam listened to snippets of the deep rumbles that drifted to him as he walked.

     “He’s been asleep for a week. The doctor thinks he needs to be woken soon, but she won’t hear of it. Says she’s not ready yet…”

     “You know how she is, she needs to be sure everything is secure before she risks....”

     “Isn’t it more of a risk if we don’t...”

     “Don’t worry, she’s got the situation handled…woke him this morning to talk to him…lucid enough. We really don’t know how his health is…gone for a while.”

     That last bit got Adam’s attention. He stopped just before their hallway spilled into his, leaning against the wall and contemplating what little of the conversation he heard. Someone had been gone for a while? And they’d been asleep for a week? _I don’t know of any officers who were away on missions for a prolonged amount of time…_

     Just as he was about to dislodge from his position, the men turned the corner and nearly knocked him on his ass. He cursed lightly, regaining his balance before he realized who they were. Standing at attention and bringing his hand to his forehead in a salute, Adam greeted his superiors, Commanders Iverson and Hedrick.

     “At ease, Officer,” Hedrick permitted. Adam relaxed and allowed himself to take in the man before him. With his receding strawberry blond hair and ever-growing gut, he looked about ready to retire, though that was never going to be the case. He was a decent enough person when talking with him, but his green eyes never quite hid the colder, more cunning person lurking underneath the otherwise easy-going demeanor, and he always seemed to be looking straight through your eyes and into your soul. The juxtaposition was unsettling, to say the least, and Adam avoided his gaze where possible. Now, however, those eyes were boring into him, suspicion plain on his face.

     “My apologies, Commanders,” Adam managed to stammer out, dropping his gaze and tilting his head down slightly, a gesture to accompany his words. He glanced up again, this time at the hulking figure of Iverson. In contrast to his companion, Iverson was fit, the bulk under his uniform all muscle. He stood straight, tall, and proud. He was stern with officers and cadets alike, often barking his commands loud enough for anyone within fifty feet to hear. He was battle tested, but one could never call him battle worn, the only visible weakness on him being that one of his eyes had been permanently injured. No one seemed to know how he received the damage, and if they did they certainly didn’t talk about it. Adam didn’t take much time in thinking that over though, as the good eye glinted in the commander’s dark face, regarding him, maybe not with the suspicion that Hedrick held, but with definite care.

     Iverson interrupted him before he could even attempt to excuse himself.

     “Officer Wyatt, are you lost?” he inquired, gruffly, swiping at the material on his chest where Adam had impacted.

     “No, sir,” Adam faltered. Damnit, why hadn’t he just kept walking?

     “Then may I ask why you were just standing in the hall?” Before he could find an acceptable excuse, Hedrick chimed in.

     “Unless you were looking for something...or someone?” Adam didn’t like the look in Hedrick’s eyes, like he’d figured out he was up to no good. He thought he’d admit guilt just to get those eyes to stop looking at him like that, but he really had no clue who or what he could have been looking for.

     “No, sir, I was just on my way to my class,” he answered, pointing towards the doors at the end of the hall. “I stopped to...um...tie my boot.”

     The two commanders eyed him warily, taking in his appearance. Three eyes swept across his face, taking in the reddish tint to his cheeks, a testament to his rush and his embarrassment, his damp forehead, the hair that was quite obviously disheveled, and his chest, which was still lifting a little too broadly and frequently. Adam really needed to hit the gym more often.

     “Your boot?” Iverson questioned dubiously, an eyebrow lifting to emphasize how unimpressed he was with his explanation.

     “Yes, Commander.” He swallowed the slight quaver in his voice. _God, you’re such a terrible fucking liar._ Adam wasn’t quite sure why he was lying. After all, he hadn’t really heard that much of their conversation, and none of it was particularly informative, but from the way the men were assessing him, he thought it might not be the best idea for them to know he’d heard anything at all.

     Iverson sighed, suddenly looking tired. Whether it was because of Adam, the conversation he and Hedrick had been having, or just the world in general he wasn’t sure, but at the dismissive wave the commander gave him, he didn’t really care.

     “You’re dismissed, Officer Wyatt. Get to class.”

     “Yes, sir!” Adam quickly - perhaps too quickly - walked passed his superiors. Glancing again at his watch, he picked up the pace, still careful to walk instead of run.

     Just before he swiped his card in the reader, Hedrick’s voice floated to him.

     “Oh, and Wyatt?” Adam turned to see the stout man studying him. The suspicion he’d conveyed earlier was still present, perhaps even more pronounced, but his voice dripped sweetly as he continued. “Hats off indoors.”

     Adam stiffened, reaching for the cap he’d forgotten to remove in his haste, bringing it down to rest under his arm.

     “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

     Hedrick laughed, almost jovially, if one could miss the sneer under the robust sounds of his chuckle. Iverson said nothing more as both men turned and continued down the way Adam had come.

     Adam turned away from the sight of their retreating backs, confused and a little unnerved. He passed his identification through the processor, barely registering the ‘beep’ as his credentials were accepted or the ‘whoosh’ of the doors opening, his thoughts were so loud in his head. _What the fresh hell was that about?_

     Another peek at his watch stopped that train in its tracks and, giving up on propriety, Adam sprinted full out to his classroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No problem. Just know that if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you. You know where to find me.”
> 
> “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I have a class to get to,” he answered, words clipped, turning on his heel and racing out the door before the man could say anything more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm...alright, thinking maybe I can handle weekly updates. No promises, though!

     Four minutes before the 8:00 bell rang, Adam crash-landed -- quite literally, in fact -- ramming himself into the doorframe upon entry, landing unceremoniously on his ass just outside the classroom. Luckily, there were very few people in the hall this close to the start of the period, and his own students were all too busy socializing to notice how much of a mess their favorite instructor was this morning.

_Way to go, Wyatt_ , he admonished himself. _How the hell does someone as uncoordinated as you become a pilot?_ Adam stood clumsily and, breathing through the surge of adrenaline pulsing in his throat, he straightened his coat and adjusted his sleeves, glancing down at himself as he did so. He sighed dramatically, realizing he’d left his beret on the floor. Stooping over to pick it up, he let his head and shoulders fall, just barely holding himself up, allowing all the of the tension he’d gathered since he left the apartment that morning to drain through his fingertips and the ends of his hair as they dangled, swaying slightly with each breath he took. He clutched the cap and, keeping his eyes closed, he slowly uncurled himself, standing upright, and rolling out his shoulders before he opened them again. Blinking, he noticed that his glasses were just barely hanging on to the end of his nose, and he quickly brought them up to sit more securely on his face.

     Adam moved to bring the hat under his arm again, but at the last moment something about it caught his eye, and he found himself gazing at the synthetic fibers with fascination. Each fiber just a small piece of the whole. Almost like puzzle pieces, they had to be precise to hold the whole together properly. And with thoughts of puzzles in his mind, his brain began trying to create a picture of recent events before he could stop it, the grey, unanswered questions morphing into colorful, uneven shapes in his mind’s eye. The problem was, none of them seemed to go together.

_Why would Iverson and Hedrick be walking around the Garrison together?_ True, they worked in the same building, but one couldn’t exactly call them friendly. Iverson respected Hedrick’s intellect, but was simultaneously weary of his constant calculations. Hedrick respected Iverson’s strength, but his slight unwillingness to bend grated him. It resulted in them often electing to work apart from each other where possible. And yet, they were clearly conversing about something important. They didn’t agree obviously, but they were telling each other so, and that communication was enough to be considered odd.

_“She’s got the situation handled…woke him this morning…”_ Who is “she?” _Someone neither commander wants to cross_ , Adam assumed. But there was only one woman they would both be cautious of, and it wouldn’t make sense for her to be waking anyone. She was the Admiral, not a nurse. And could that woman he’d seen really have been her, after a whole year? _“Him…”_ Who is that supposed to be? He’d have to be important for the Admiral to be involved, if she even was. Iverson said this man had been gone for a while, but he hadn’t heard anything about any long-term missions. _Not since the incident_ . _Not since Takashi...”_

      Adam’s brain began to spiral, the vibrant tones of questions and the muted hues of memories swirling around each other. The effect was dizzying, and he felt steam would be coming from his ears any second when, mercifully, the bell chose that moment to ring, and the colorful pieces of jigsaw fell to the back of his head with a clatter.

     Brought back to reality, Adam realized he’d been standing in the hallway, just staring at his hat, for what had been a solid few minutes. Hedrick may have had a point in thinking he looked a little suspicious, but, passive aggressive joke or not, Iverson was definitely correct in implying he was lost. _Just, maybe not geographically_.

     Putting his hat in his bag, determined not to let it drop a second time, Adam shook off any feelings he had about his morning thus far. Putting his hard-won compartmentalization to use, he forced himself to breathe deeply and purposefully a few times and let his mind snap into teacher mode. Honestly, he could use the distraction. So, with an easy-going, if somewhat sheepish, smile on his face, Adam walked into his class, ready for his favorite part of the day.

 

* * *

 

     As soon as they saw him, the students quieted down and stood at attention at their seats, as alert as ever. Adam felt that little swell of pride he always felt as he looked at all the faces staring up at him. The Galaxy Garrison wasn’t just a place for scientists, pilots, engineers and the like to gather planetary data and launch astro-explorers into space. It existed for the next generation to learn and grow into people with strong bodies and agile minds. All of the students before him chose to be here, chose to explore worlds that used to be nothing but fairytale. Just that showed a strength of character that lifted Adam’s spirits and helped chase away the dread that clung to him.

     “Morning, Cadets!” he greeted the class.

     “Good morning, Officer Wyatt!” they responded, in kind.

     Adam grinned at the perfunctory yet cheerful response as he removed his lesson book from his bag and hung the latter across the back of his seat.

     “Please, sit. I hope you all got a good night’s sleep, because we’re going to be continuing the lesson from last class.” A few unenthusiastic groans answered him as they all settled at their desks. _Teenagers_ , he thought. He was only twenty-six and could clearly remember the days when he was the one sitting in those seats, but he still felt like he had decades on them.

     He didn’t take their response personally; History wasn’t his favorite subject either. Stopping to look back when you were impatiently chasing down the future was difficult for some adults, let alone a bright group of kids like this one.

    “I know, I know,” he chuckled. “It’s not the most stimulating topic for most of you, but it’s all important.” He noticed a couple of eye-rolls at that, a few bodies fidgeting in their seats, and he speculated how many of them had heard the same speech in other classes. He pressed on, though.

     “Learning from the past is what makes us better strategists, researchers, scientists, explorers, and people. Inspiration can often come from the actions of those before you, and without their discoveries, we wouldn’t be where we are today.” He smiled inwardly, gauging the various degrees of interest. Most seemed to be at least mildly attentive. Remembering similar talks he received as a child from his militaristic father, having barely been able to pay attention himself, he fixed them with the look he received when he was young and restless -- half amused pride at his wayward curiosity for everything but what was right in front of him, half determined to get his point across. “You’re all here because you want to have your own encounters some day or make your own breakthroughs in what we think we know. You want to contribute, to go down in history, so to speak. However,” he paused, letting the cadets focus on him, noticing more eyes on him as he did so, “if you want history to remember you, _you_ have to remember _it_.”

     Silence followed his spiel, and he let it lie. Adam hadn’t really meant to start the lecture with, well, a lecture, but he could tell that his students were thinking about what he said. They all looked distant, yet focused, as if the images they had of themselves in the future were right in front of them, and they were raring to go. _Maybe_ _I should make that speech part of the lessons on the first day of the semester…_ As he studied them, he debated throwing in a class project surrounding their personal goals, but he tucked that away for the moment. He had a lesson plan to follow.

     He cleared his throat to get the kids’ attention. “Plus,” he said, smirk asserting itself on his lips, “It’ll all be on the test next week.”

     If he thought the groan before had been immense, it was nothing compared to the noise the class was making now. One student actually smacked her head on her desk, pulling her hair in frustration. Adam fought valiantly to keep his snicker to himself, disguising it as a sleeve-smothered cough. Eventually, though, he realized he couldn’t hide the glimmer in his eyes, and he ended up barking his laughter, enough so that he barely heard it when one of the students mumbled that he was evil, which only made him chortle more. It was genuine and good-natured, and some of the cadets even joined him, though perhaps not as boisterously. It was the first completely relaxed moment he’d had all morning, and he was going to savor it.

     As the cacophony died down, Adam regained his composure and adjusted his glasses, deciding that he wanted to keep the energy going, lesson plan be damned.

     “Sorry, guys, but I am a teacher, after all, and I do have to grade you on something. But how about this,” he paused, a conspiratorial look spreading across his face. “How about instead of a lecture period, we play a little game?” Curious eyes gazed at him, eyebrows cocked and ears perked. _Gotcha_ , he mused.

     “Here’s what I propose: we’ll go around the room and I’ll ask you questions about what you’ve studied so far. If you all answer well, then the class as a whole gets a reward.” He surveyed the room and most people seemed more than susceptible to the idea. Others, the ones who weren’t good on the spot, seemed a little more hesitant. Adam clarified, “No punishment for wrong answers. Let’s just see where we are, yeah?” A few previously apprehensive faces relaxed, and he could see some students nodding their heads slowly in answer.

     “Also,” he declared, making sure everyone was listening before he continued, “if every person in the room gets at least one question correct, you will each be allowed to skip one question on the exam of your choosing, without losing the points for that answer.” That got the students’ attention. Every person in the room raptly hanging on to every word. _Might as well give them one more nudge_.

     “Furthermore, if every person in the room gets at least three questions correct,” he held up three fingers for emphasis, “then the only homework assigned before the test will be the study guide.”

     Sounds of excitement permeated the room, everyone more than eager to let the games begin. Adam had been accused of babying his students before, and he was pretty sure the rest of the faculty weren’t going to be thrilled about this latest endeavor, but that was their problem. Every student was different, they all had their own interests that pulled them away from the group. That was admirable, but they also had to learn to be a team. Homework would always be the common enemy that kept students together, and Adam cherished that some things never changed.           

 

* * *

 

     In the end, the class wasn’t able to achieve a liberation from homework, but they did manage to win themselves a free question on the test. Adam continued to run his classes the same way throughout the day, and by the last period he was feeling significantly better than he had that morning. In his excitement, he was only a little disappointed when the one class that came close to the three-question mark fell short when one of the students lost interest.

     “Which was the first craft to shuttle astronauts to the moons of Jupiter?” he asked, looking down in the textbook he’d been hunting for questions in. It took him a couple seconds to realize that he wasn’t receiving a reply, and he looked up to see if the student in question was struggling. Andrew Murphy clearly wasn’t grappling for an answer, though. He just wasn’t paying any mind to the game. He’d been doing fine for the first two rounds, but somewhere in the third, Adam noticed that he’d become agitated and distant.

     “Cadet Murphy,” he called, grabbing the boy’s attention, startling him from whatever thoughts were distracting him from the class. “Your answer?”

     “Oh, um…I’m sorry, Officer Wyatt, I - I didn’t hear the question.” The girl next to him swatted lightly on his arm, and he looked bashfully down at his hands.

     “That’s alright. Can you tell me which craft was the first to take astronauts to the moons of Jupiter?” he repeated.

     Murphy contemplated for a moment, closing his eyes and frowning, trying to recall the answer from a lesson they’d gone over a week ago. After quickly discerning that his memory just wasn’t holding up, he shook his head and shrugged, tossing out the first thing that came to mind.

     “The _Eclipse_ , sir?”

     Moans rang out from his fellow students, all of whom had been holding their breath for the answer. They’d spent nearly a whole period discussing that mission, and Adam remembered distinctly that Murphy had participated actively in the lesson, so it seemed odd that his answer would be incorrect. Nonetheless…

     “I’m sorry, Cadet,” he responded, giving him a sympathetic smile, “but the answer is, The _Calypso_.”

     “Right. Sorry.” Murphy turned his head then, returning to his thoughts, an almost pained look on his face as his peers grumbled around him.

     Adam quieted them down, but, being a few minutes before the end of class, they knew that there was no way to make up for Murphy having missed his third question, and their motivation was gone. Two of the last three students answered their questions incorrectly, no longer caring about the results of the competition.

     The bell rang, and as the students collected their belongings and shuffled out of the room, he reminded them that their homework assignment would be posted in the next hour. A few disgruntled mumbles met his ears, and he looked over to where Murphy had only then stood up to gather his things.

     As the cadet made to follow the last of the students trickling out, Adam stopped him, beckoning to him, and came around the side of his desk to perch on the edge, hoping to talk with the boy.

     “Yes, Officer?” Murphy questioned, not looking him in the eye.

     Adam crossed his arms over his chest and let the concern show in his voice as he observed, “You seemed a little…preoccupied today. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

     Murphy’s blue eyes met his briefly, filled with something he couldn’t identify, before looking down again so quickly Adam couldn’t figure it out. He was usually such a straightforward, earnest kid that this behavior was unsettling. Adam let him stand there quietly, sorting out whatever was going through his head. His face was hidden behind a sweep of brown hair, but he could see the tension in the boy’s shoulders, singing down his arms and into his hands, which were gripping his book tightly enough that his knuckles became white.

     Just as Adam was going to break the silence, Murphy sighed. It was shallow, but it was something, and when he turned his freckled face to his instructor there was a smile across it, even if it was a little strained.

     “I’m fine, just tired. Thank you for checking on me, sir, I appreciate it,” he stated, a forced laugh punctuating his reply.

     “No problem,” he responded, carefully. He wasn’t a fan of the rigid, tight way the boy was carrying himself, smile or no. He stared at him for a moment and continued. “Just know that if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you. You know where to find me.” 

     Murphy bit into his lip and looked away again, hoping to hide the emotion that was flitting across his face. Adam started to say something, but whatever he was going to voice was interrupted.

     “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I have a class to get to,” he answered, words clipped, turning on his heel and racing out the door before the man could say anything more.

     Adam watched him go, staring out into the hallway long after his back had retreated. He knew there was nothing he could do for the cadet if he refused to talk to him, but he sincerely hoped the boy would be okay, whatever it was.

    Sighing and lifting himself from the edge of the desk, Adam made a mental note to keep an eye on his student for a while and watch for more signs that the boy needed help. He grabbed his bag from the chair, stuffing his textbook and lesson planner in it, before he followed the cadet out, letting the door slide shut behind him.

 

* * *

 

     There was still one more class period that was currently underway, but Adam was done with his lessons. Pushing his encounter with the cadet out of his mind for now, he made his way to the teacher’s lounge, grateful to find it empty. Most instructors were either still giving their lessons or at their second jobs within the Garrison. Adam had his job as a pilot, but there were no scheduled trainings or missions today, and he was too tired for it, anyhow. He dropped his bag on the counter of the kitchen area, and himself onto the orange couch centered in the room, closing his eyes and letting his head lean back.

     Now that he didn’t have much to focus on, he was aware how heavy his body felt, like there were weights strapped to his appendages. He’d enjoyed his classes today, drawing energy from the enthusiasm of his students, but he’d also known it was a quick fix, like putting a band-aid over the crack in a pipe. Too tired to try and puzzle out the events with Commanders Iverson and Hedrick, Adam thought about the dense fog that had muddled his brain that morning, and the dream he still couldn’t fully remember, even as he knew it clung to the back of his conscience. All he recalled was the smile and the feel of the person featured in it, and his heart ached when he pictured holding the hand of the man he’d lost.

_No_ , he thought, sitting up straight, _I – I can’t do this right now_. Swallowing past the lump that had started to form in his throat, he snatched his bag from the counter and walked to one of the computers that lined a wall of the room, logging in to the system to update the assignments for his classes. Forcing himself to think about the competition he had set and the lesson he was supposed to have gone over today, he worked his way through the program, eagerly distracting himself with the reason he had come to the lounge in the first place.

     Satisfied with the homework set and that his students wouldn’t hate him too much when they checked what he posted, Adam returned the lesson planner to his bag and logged out. Just as he was about to shut the station off, he glimpsed the clock. _14:30, huh?_ he noted. In another hour, classes would be done and teachers would be crawling in here.

     He was fishing through his bag for his keys when he heard footsteps approaching. _Shit_ he cursed, silently. He really wasn’t in the mood to be making small talk right now.

     The person stopped just outside the door. Adam was thinking up an excuse of why he’d have to run out quickly when he heard it. A small knock. _Well that’s weird…_ A faculty member or officer wouldn’t have to knock to enter the lounge. Their IDs gave them clearance. _A student?_ The person knocked again and Adam answered, ready to chide whichever cadet was skipping out on class.

     When he disengaged the lock, however, he recognized the smatter of freckles and wide blue eyes, and whatever reproach he might have had deflated in his lungs. It had only been forty-five minutes since he’d seen Murphy, but he looked terrible. His hair was disheveled from running his hands through, his cheeks were pale and covered in dried tears, and his usually bright and clear eyes were red and puffy, looking at Adam as if he were a life preserver.

     Adam didn’t hesitate to open the door wider, a silent invitation for the boy to enter. He let the door close and led him to the couch, letting him sit there quietly while he made some hot chocolate. It was what he used to do for - well, what he used to do for _someone_ to make him feel better, and it was just what he did now when people were sad. He pushed the face he’d seen too many times today out of his head so he could focus, and returned to his student carrying two mugs.

     Murphy took his drink with a hiccup, staring in front of him at nothing in particular. He wasn’t crying anymore, but the man could tell that he was still fragile and could break again at any second.

     Adam sat his mug down on the coffee table so he could pull a chair over to face the couch. He situated himself, and busied his hands with the hot chocolate, glancing now and again at the youth who had crumpled in on himself in his seat. After another few minutes, Murphy spoke with a hollow voice that made Adam shiver.

     “I got the notification that you posted the new assignment,” he started. “That’s how I knew you’d be here.”

     Adam fixed his glasses, face neutral. “You left class to come see me?” he questioned.

     Murphy shook his head, still not meeting his eyes. “I never went to class. I’ve been in one of the old simulators since I saw you. I’ve been…well…” he trailed off, not needing to finish. It was obvious enough what he’d been doing. Adam pictured him huddled alone in one of the dark, broken down hunks of metal, sobbing into the echoing space, and resisted the urge to place a comforting hand on the boy’s shoulder.

     Adam sat forward in his seat, placing the half-empty mug on the table again, leaning, almost hunched, with his elbows on his thighs and his hands grasped in front of him, putting himself at eye-level with the cadet, hoping to get him to look at him. Nothing.

     “Murphy,” he tried. No response. “Andrew,” he said, gentler. The boy looked at him, and Adam could see that his eyes were shiny, trying their best to hold in tears. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

     Murphy broke eye contact again and looked at the floor. _God, he looks so lost…_

     “It’s nothing that _happened_ . It’s – it’s _happening_. Now. And – and I can’t do anything…” His shoulders slumped even further, shaking with the effort of holding in the emotions he was carrying. Adam stayed silent, letting the boy go at his own pace.

     “My mother…” he began, taking in as large a breath as he could, like he was about to drown. “You asked the question about Galileo in class today and it – it reminded me of a really old song she used to play a lot.” He sniffed, balling his hands into fists, trying to control himself enough to explain. “She used to sing it in the car, sometimes to me, sometimes to herself. She hasn’t done that in a while.” That was the last thing Murphy said for a few minutes, lost in whatever memory he was recounting as they sat there. When he continued, his hands were still in fists, but his voice was completely empty, the trade-off for keeping whatever demons were lurking in him at bay.

     “At first, I didn’t notice. I didn’t notice that she wasn’t singing anymore, or dancing while she cooked. I didn’t notice that she seemed tired all the time, or that she didn’t laugh the same way. I didn’t notice how she didn’t walk the dog anymore. How she didn’t pick up anything heavier than her purse. That she just seemed...weaker. I had school and training and friends. I just didn’t notice, or maybe I didn’t want to. But I look at her now and it all just seems so obvious...” Tears started streaming down the boy’s face, and Adam fought to keep the moisture that was building behind his eyes contained. He looked down at his hands, allowing Murphy the illusion of privacy as the cadet tried to wipe his face and calm himself. Mrs. Murphy was sick, that much was clear, and that made this exactly the kind of story Adam tried so hard to avoid. But he couldn’t stop him, and he certainly couldn’t just leave.

     “Have you ever lost someone you loved?”

     Adam’s eyes shot back to the freckled face of his student, and he knew they were wide and surprised. They shouldn’t have been; it was a natural question for a conversation like this. But he’d thought Murphy was too wrapped up in his own pain to ask about someone else’s. _No. You hoped he was. You let your guard down…_

     “We all have,” he replied feebly, after what felt like an eternity. His voice was tight, strained with emotion he was trying desperately not to share. Murphy had his own problems, he didn’t need Adam’s. Nevertheless, he could feel his eyebrows pinching together and his lips flattening in a hard line. The answer wasn’t a lie, not really. It wasn’t direct, though, which was apparently what the cadet was after.

     The boy jumped up from the couch, pacing as he pushed. “Everyone always says that! That’s not what I mean!” He drove his hands through his hair again, and his voice came out strangled and angry, like he could scream. The earnestness Adam had come to associate with the cadet now twisted and morphed into something ugly and cruel. He knew that rage better than anyone. He also knew it was futile to try to guess who or what exactly that anger was towards, and when Murphy stopped to stare him in the eyes, he felt the burn of it on his skin like the aftermath of a whip. “No, I mean, someone you really loved, someone you couldn’t bear to lose? Someone you literally couldn’t even think of being without because surviving without them just seemed so damn impossible?”

     Adam froze, unable to find words that would placate his student. Murphy stared at him, searching, looking for something to cling to, some glimmer of understanding in his eyes, but Adam gave him nothing. He locked away everything that the boy might use to keep this conversation going in the direction he wanted. The question was too personal, too raw. Yes, Adam had just seen him cry, and he had more sympathy for him than he knew what to do with, but it wasn’t proper or professional to divulge that information to a student. _How convenient for you…_

     “Andrew…” Adam tried, teeth clenched, and breath shallow. But it was too late. The cadet shook his head and looked away from whatever he saw, or maybe didn’t see, in Adam’s face. He ran his hands down his cheeks, and let out a haggard sigh as they fell to his sides. He looked even worse than he had when he arrived, as improbable as that seemed. He laughed, but there was no humor to it, and what bitterness could be heard in the notes was wilted around the edges by something softer. Sadder. _Defeat_.

     “I don’t know why I came here,” he muttered, biting his lip and staring at the floor like he wanted it to open up and swallow him whole. “I’m sorry. Thank you...for the hot chocolate.”

     Murphy turned abruptly and made his way to the exit as Adam followed him with his eyes, still struggling for words. He watched as the cadet stopped and took a steadying breath.

_Wait._

     He watched as he lifted his hand and disengaged the lock.

_Stop him._

     He watched as he took his first step out the door.

_Say SOMETHING, you idiot!_

     “Takashi Shirogane.”

     The name left Adam’s mouth before he knew it. The name he hadn’t dared to say out loud in he didn’t even know how long. The name that haunted his dreams and had seared a hole in his heart so precise and sadistic that the wound let him live with the knowledge that he’d never get to whisper the name to its owner again. He thought it would feel like acid coming out, but it was just there, on his lips, right where Adam didn’t want it, not that it cared. It had sprung forth, ready and waiting.

     Despite the surprising ease with which it presented itself, however, it was still too slow. Murphy had already gone, and the name that hung densely in the air now landed, crashing into Adam, shrouding him in a blanket of cold, heavy rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked this one. Let me know in the comments and kudos :)
> 
> PS: That song Murphy's mom likes is Bohemian Rhapsody!
> 
> My tumblr is midnight-disciple if anyone wants to message me there. Don't have much there yet, just some re-posts and a couple ramblings, but will probably start getting more active!
> 
> Shout-out to my squad, Squishy and Trash Panda, for making sure I don't look like a total loser out here!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE flashback, as it should have gone in the show, and as Adam wished it had never happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little bit sorry for this.

_“Adam, please.”_

_“No.”_

_"We have to --”_

_“No.”_

_“Just --”_

_“I said, ‘No’, Takashi!”_

_.........._

    Adam had been sitting on the couch grading papers that night, listening to the rain pounding on the window, a half-filled coffee mug of some whiskey infused concoction next to him on the side table, untouched, beads of condensation rushing down and pooling on the wood beneath it. Normally, Adam would have insisted on using a coaster, but tonight he was too keyed up to care.

    When Takashi walked in, he didn’t even bother to look up, intent on ignoring him in favor of a rather half-assed essay on World War III. He could feel his fiancé’s eyes on him as he wiped his boots on the doormat and hung his bag on the hooks they’d picked out together just for that. Adam brought his pen down, making red notes in the margins, aware of Takashi shaking out the excess water in his black hair, no doubt getting droplets all over the floor. Normally, he’d tease the man about acting like a golden-retriever, but the tension in the air was palpable, and Adam felt no need to be the first to poke at it. He’d said his piece earlier. It was Takashi’s turn.

    He didn’t have to wait very long.

    “So...how are the papers? Any of them good?”

 _Inspired opening_ , he thought, sarcastically.

    “They’re fine. It was a difficult assignment,” he said, marking the last of the essays with a ‘B+’ and finally looking up at his partner. He’d made his way into the living room after grabbing his own drink from the kitchen -- _Wine, of course_ \-- and had sunk down in one of the arm chairs across from Adam, sipping quietly. It was a small chair, one Takashi had had since he was a teenager. He wasn’t a large man, six-foot even and not having fulfilled all the muscled potential he could have, but the chair still looked ready to collapse under his weight. Adam once asked him why he kept it, but he got nothing more than a shrug and a fond look in response. When they decided to move in together, Adam insisted the entire room’s color scheme be centered around the dark grey piece. He’d told Takashi it was because he loved it, and loved how it made his fiancé feel cozy and at-home, but that was only half the truth. The other half was devoted entirely to how well it matched Takashi’s eyes.  

    Now, though, those eyes looked uncomfortable, which Adam got some petty satisfaction out of, to be honest. The feeling made him warm for a moment, but the smugness bothered him in the end, and he took some pity on the man before him.

    “I thought you were having dinner with your brother tonight.”

    “Keith?”

    “Unless there’s another child you forgot to mention adopting.” Adam tried to make the response teasing, but failed miserably, the impatience in his voice clear as day. Takashi winced a little, but made no other sign that he’d noticed, opting to continue instead.

    “We did. Or we started to. He asked why you weren’t with me and when I told him, he told me to come home and went back to the dorms. He...told me to tell you he said ‘Hi,’” he said, looking into his nearly empty glass. Adam narrowed his eyes at him, watching as he jiggled his foot nervously.

    “He didn’t say that, did he?” Takashi was great at many things, almost everything he did, but he’d always be the worst liar Adam ever met.

    “No,” he sighed, “he didn’t. He told me to tell you to stop being a…”

    “A what?”

    The man closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in a gesture he’d done for as long as Adam had known him.

    “A dickweed.”

    Adam laughed. He couldn’t help it. It just forced its way out of his stomach until he was doubled over, tears streaming from his eyes and sound practically barking from between his lips. “Of...course he - he said…” Adam glimpsed Takashi between his fits of giggles. He looked unsure as to whether he should be laughing, too, or if he should be scared. The effect was comical, and Adam had to force himself to not laugh harder, having just started to calm down.

    When he could breathe again around his hysterics, he stood up, finally grabbing his neglected drink as he went. He took a few large gulps as he walked to the kitchen, draining it, before he placed the mug in the sink and opened the fridge, pulling out meats and cheese, a chuckle still bubbling up every now and again when he thought about what the eighteen year-old had called him. “What a little shit.”

    “He’s not a shit,” Takashi said, having followed him as far as the island, where he was now leaning, frowning as Adam closed the fridge and grabbed the loaf of bread that was on the counter. “And I’m not hungry.”

    “He is a shit,” Adam countered as he finished making the sandwich, “and this isn’t for you.” He punctuated the remark by removing a single plate from the cabinet, taking a bite out of the sandwich before plopping it down on the dish. He glared at Takashi as he picked it up and walked around him to sit at their dining room table, purposefully sitting with his back to the man, and there was silence for a minute as he ate.

    “Don’t take this out on him.” Adam swallowed the food in his mouth and turned to find Takashi sitting on one of the stools by the island, hands clenched in his lap, a glare answering the one he had thrown him before.

    “I’m not,” Adam grunted. Takashi was always defensive about Keith, and he understood why, having taken the foster child under his wing when the boy was still young. He and Adam had only been dating a year at that point, but it had still stung when his boyfriend returned from work one day with a kid under his arm, claiming him as his brother, without even talking to him about it first. Nevertheless, he welcomed Keith with open arms. He was bright and witty, and quite kind when you got to know him. He’d grown so much with Takashi, as Takashi had with him, and Adam truly was proud of them both. But that didn’t mean the kid couldn’t be a gigantic pain in the ass when he wanted to be.

    “I’m not,” Adam repeated, a little gentler this time, but still with a hint of agitation. “I love him, you know that. He’s like my brother, too. I’m not upset or surprised that he called me that, just like I’m not surprised he took your side. Again.”

    “Why shouldn’t he when I’m right?” Takashi practically yelled. He looked down at his fists, too flustered to say anything else, and even with the rain pelting the windows in steady, heavy waves, the silence surrounding them was deafening.

    Adam took a long time to respond, dozens of emotions raging within him, warring for which one would arise first. But none could claim victory, and in the end when Adam opened his mouth, the voice that came through was completely devoid of any of them.

    “You still think you’re right?” Takashi didn’t respond, still avoiding Adam’s gaze, so he kept going. “Do you? Jesus Christ, Takashi.” Abandoning the half-finished sandwich on the table, Adam stood, shaking his head, and running his hands through his hair. He paced for a few seconds before finally settling on leaning against the back of the couch, hands balling themselves into the fabric as he clutched it, steadying himself. He took a long breath before continuing.

    “You’re sick. I know you know that, but...you don’t act like you do. This mission...Commander Iverson doesn’t, hell, even Admiral Sanda doesn’t want you on it! You said so yourself. So why do you insist on going? Is this mission really so important to you that you’re going to risk getting even worse?” Adam could feel his pulse quickening and heat rushing to his face. He spun around, arms fanning to the side while he talked. _Looks like anger wins_ . “You can’t even function for more than twelve hours without having to use the electro-stimulators to keep your muscles loose! What happens when you go to space? What happens when there’s interference and those don’t work anymore, huh? How do you expect to pilot _anywhere_ if you start spasming, let alone all the way to Kerberos? You could kill someone! You could kill yourself! So _why?_ ”

    “I told you after the meeting earlier that I needed to do this for myself...we’ve talked about this, Adam, hundreds of times…”

    “No!” Adam yelled. He didn’t care anymore about controlling himself. He was tired of having to be in control. He wanted answers. “ _I’ve_ talked. _I’ve_ questioned. You’ve just pretended to listen and avoided giving me an actual answer. Just what are you trying to prove? Why are you doing this to yourself?” He paused, almost too frightened to ask the next part. It was a selfish question, he knew. But it was there, a snake coiled tight in his stomach, and he needed to know. “Why do want to leave me?”

    Takashi looked at him then. Adam wasn’t sure what he expected to see in his face, in his eyes, but it hadn’t been tears. It hadn’t been desperation. He hadn’t expected him to respond with a plea.

    “Adam, please.” Adam searched his face for any signs of continuing, but there was nothing except the desperate need for him to understand. Adam wasn’t a mind reader, though, and it wasn’t an answer. It wasn’t even the beginnings of one, and it was all he wanted. After all this time together, it was what he deserved.

    He turned away from the man he loved, refusing to let him see how heartbroken he really felt. He started walking to the bedroom, wanting to escape, but was stopped by a firm hand at his elbow.

    “No,” he said, pulling his arm roughly out of Takashi’s grip. He kept going, eyes glued to the end of the hallway, stinging with the beginnings of tears.

    “We have to --”

    “No,” Adam interrupted. He didn’t want to talk anymore. He had nothing left to say. But he could feel Takashi following behind him. He didn’t try to touch him again, though, and he was grateful. He might not make it to the bedroom if he did.

    “Just --”

    “I said, ‘ _No_ ’, Takashi!” Adam opened the door and slammed it behind him, a picture of them from their days as cadets falling forward on their bedside table. _Good_ , he huffed silently, walking further into room, just to stand there and turn in useless circles, his brain failing to focus on what to do. The tears started falling down his face and he threw his glasses onto the bed in frustration, what he could and couldn’t see no longer an issue as he wiped at his eyes, trying to stem the flow. It didn’t help, of course, and if anything it made him cry harder.

    Takashi hadn’t tried to follow Adam into the room, giving him his space, but as sobs started to escape from his trembling lips, he heard the door open behind him. Footsteps approached, and he felt Takashi’s warmth at his side before he glimpsed his hazy face out of the corner of his eyes. He closed them, but didn’t move away. Noticing this, his fiancé hesitantly took the hand that wasn’t still wiping at his face into his own.

    “Adam?” he asked quietly. “Can we sit?” Unable to speak around the wordless sounds tearing from his throat, Adam nodded, and he was led by the hand to sit on the edge of the mattress. It felt cool underneath him, and for some reason the feeling made him flinch. He hadn’t noticed Takashi sit beside him, but slowly he was pulled into the man’s side, his arms encircling Adam’s shoulders, one hand holding his, the other brought up to cradle his head as Adam pressed his face into the hollow between his shoulder and neck.

    They stayed that way for a while, the only sounds coming from either of them being Adam’s slowly subsiding sobs and Takashi’s quiet assurances as he tried to soothe him. He traced his thumb in small circles on his hand and ran his fingers through his hair, and it felt so comforting that it wasn’t long before his cries died down and the tears slowed. He felt so raw, so heavy, that if Takashi wasn’t there holding him, he was sure he would have slumped to the ground.

    “I’m sorry,” Takashi whispered into the quiet, just barely loud enough for Adam to hear. He didn’t answer, just sniffled at his side, too drained to force words out just yet.

    “I’m sorry,” he repeated, louder this time. “You were right. I wasn’t talking. But I was listening. I heard everything you said, every word, every time. And it made talking harder.” He stopped running his hand through Adam’s hair, moving it down to his shoulder, giving it a firm but tender squeeze.

    “I know you’re scared. I am, too. I know the risks, but Sam seems to think we can counteract them. And I _want_ to believe him. I _do_ believe him. Because I _need_ to. I _need_ this, Adam. I...I don’t have a lot of time left. Like this. I’m not going to get any better. I’m..I’m not trying to…” Adam felt tears on his face and realized they weren’t his own. He moved away a little so that he could look at Takashi, but stayed close enough that he could see his face clearly without his glasses. He pulled the hand between them out of his, and lifted it to his cheeks, wiping at the droplets with his thumb as they fell. Takashi dropped the hand that was on his shoulder and let it fall to his waist, gripping it like it was the last solid thing in the world, and he leaned into his palm, allowing himself that small comfort before he continued.

    “I’m not trying to prove myself. Maybe I was, but now...now I just want one more chance. I have a chance to travel further than anyone has ever gone before, to see things that no one has ever seen before, not with their own eyes. I have to take it, Adam. I have to.” He shook Adam’s side gently at that, a silent plea for him to see this the way he was. And Adam did. He understood that Takashi had dreams of his own, dreams that would have crushed anyone else when they found out they were sick like he was. But he had never let his illness stop him, and he wasn’t going to let it now. Adam admired that, deeply; that resolve being one of the many wonderful things he’d fallen in love with, one of the many reasons he forced himself to watch as Takashi pushed himself harder and harder, trained harder and harder. He became the best, but at a steep cost. Adam couldn’t watch him pay that toll any longer.

    Just as he thought it, the man he adored turned to him, a truly pained look on his face. He took the hand that was still pressed to his cheek into his, and turned his body so that he could take the one that laid beside them on the bed, as well. He looked into Adam’s eyes, making sure he had his full attention.

    “And, Adam, Honey...I would _never_ want to leave you. Ever.” Takashi held their hands up in front of them, laying a soft kiss on the knuckles of each. The engagement rings they’d given each other glinted in the low light of the room, and Adam felt his heart clench at the sight. “This mission isn’t forever. _This,_ ” he said, waving their hands gently, “Is. I’m coming back. For you. Please don’t ever think I wouldn’t. Please. I love you.” He smiled gently as he finished, and Adam felt the tightness in his chest constrict even further. Because he loved him, too. So, so much. And that made this even worse.

    “Takashi…” he whispered, looking down into his lap, voice raspy with the tears he’d shed earlier and the tears he was holding back now.

    “Yeah?” he asked. His voice was warm, hopeful, and Adam hated it. _Not it. Yourself._ He forced himself to look at Takashi’s face, and felt his eyes roaming across it, memorizing every painfully beautiful detail, before finally settling on the dark grey eyes he’d grown so accustomed to. The ones that could never hide anything he was feeling, least of all his love. Adam could feel his heart crumbling behind his ribs and fought not to look away. He owed him that. He owed him so much.

    “I...I’m sorry,” he said, untangling their fingers, pulling his to himself so he could clutch his hands together. The pressure kept the tears at bay, if only barely. “I’ve been by your side for so long now, and I’ve watched you push yourself over and over again so many times, to great results, maybe, but terrible consequences. I’ve been the one to hold you while your muscles spasmed, comforting you the best I could through the pain. I’ve been there to support you in whatever crazy mission you and you alone decided would be best for you, even when I disagreed with your choice. I wanted to do whatever it took to take care of you.” His breath started to get shallower and shallower, and as the tears started again, he prayed to a god he didn’t believe in to give him the strength to finish what he had to say.

    “I - I’ve heard you say s - so many times that ‘this mission is the last’. But it never is. I k-know that, and I accept that that’s who you are. But if you -” his breath caught for a moment, and he thought he’d choke on the lump in his throat. “If you can’t decide that a mission is the last for you, then I will decide that it’s the last for me.”  He looked down at his hands long enough to see that his knuckles had gone white, and then he screwed eyes and lips tightly shut for a few seconds, breathing shallowly through his nose. When he opened them again, he could see that the eyes he loved so much were red-rimmed and just as wet as his were. There was no more warmth in them, only pain. So much pain. The fact that he’d caused that killed something in Adam, and a part of him wished so badly that he could take the last two minutes back. But, just as he knew Takashi had to go on this mission for himself, he knew that this was what he needed.

    “This is the last for me, Takashi. I was angry when I told you at the Garrison that if you went on this mission to not expect me to be here when you got back. I’m not angry now, but I still mean what I said.” Adam’s tears came steadily, and he made no move to stop them as they dripped onto his hands. Yet, somehow, his voice was stable as he said the rest, and it was a small blessing he didn’t really think he deserved. “I love you. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone. I know that you have to go. I know, just as I know I have to. I can’t do this anymore. I’m...I’m not strong enough. I’m sorry.”

    He looked down to his lap and unclasped his hands. They shook terribly, and whether it was from the strength of his grip or the emotion, Adam didn’t really care. He did the only thing he could think to do now, made the only gesture that could show Takashi how important this decision was to him. He removed the ring from his finger and pressed it into his lover’s palm.

    “Take this. If you decide to stay, you can give it back to me, if that’s what you want. If you decide to go...you might as well take it with you. I… I won’t need it anymore.”

    Adam kept his eyes down, not trusting himself to look into those eyes. He couldn’t take back the words he’d said, even if he wanted to, but he didn’t have Takashi’s resolve. One look at the man, and he would fall apart. There had been too much said, too many emotions, and Adam was spent. It was taking all of his strength to hold himself together.

    Neither of them spoke, neither of them moved, the weight of what had just happened hanging thick between them. _It was necessary_ , he told himself over and over, the thought so loud in his head he thought it should have pierced through the silence. Instead, the sound of the comforter shifting rang out as Takashi finally moved himself off the bed.

    Adam glanced at him through his eyelashes before he could stop himself, thankful to find that he was looking away from him, towards the closet. But even with his face turned, Adam could see how lost he looked, see the tears falling heavily to his chin. He looked down again as Takashi turned towards him, staring at the rug instead.

    “I -” his voice croaked, the sound harsh in his ears. That voice that had always been so safe now stabbed at him, and all Adam could think was how terrible this scar was going to be when it healed. _If_ it healed. “I should go,” Takashi said after clearing his throat. “There’s a hotel in Plaht City. I’ll stay there.”

    Adam sniffled, nodding his head at the ground, biting his lip hard enough that he tasted blood. He saw Takashi’s feet move towards the closet, and when he heard the doors open and the sounds of him pulling out a duffle bag and packing in clothes, Adam bit down harder. He didn’t trust what would or wouldn’t leave his lips. He focused on his hands in his lap, on the tan line where his ring used to be, on the finger that felt way too light compared to the heaviness that pulled at the rest of him.  

    Adam heard the ‘zip’ of the duffle closing, and then nothing, until he heard Takashi move towards him again. A warm hand found his shoulder and gave one, last, gentle squeeze. Adam brought his hand to it, returning the gesture with a squeeze of his own, gaze still trained to the floor. There was one more breathless silence before Takashi said the last words he would hear from the man he loved before he was gone to him forever.

    “Goodbye, Adam.”

    ..........

    Adam’s greatest regret in life is that he didn’t say it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes. That happened. I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Let me know in the comments and kudos!
> 
> I just want to say thank you to everyone who has read this so far. I've been kicking this story around in my head since the release of S7, and it means a lot to get to share it with you :)
> 
> Check out my tumblr: midnight-disciple
> 
> See you for the next chapter, where we return to the present!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam reels after his conversation with Murphy. Later, it's time to meet the team!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! Sorry this took so long to update! I got sick and, like the true wimp I am, it made writing impossible! But never fear, the next update will come faster!

_Takashi… Shirogane… I said it...out loud? I did. I said it. I...but…how...why? Why did it feel okay? It...It should have hurt...right? It hurt last time...What is wrong with me...Oh Hell, and Murphy...he asked...I couldn’t...Takashi…Takashi..._

     These thoughts swirled around Adam, dizzying him, stagnating his breath and twisting in his stomach. And then it was like releasing the name released a flood gate of other things. Before he could stop it, Adam was reliving the last moments he had spent with the man he loved. The scene played in his head until there was nothing left but a steady stream of regret running through his mind. _I didn’t even kiss him goodbye. I didn’t even_ say _“Goodbye”...I let him go...I let him go…_

_Have I let him go?_

     Just as it all was threatening to overwhelm him, a bright light suddenly blared through Adam’s vision. It stunned him from his thoughts momentarily, and he groaned, lowering his face into his hands and pressing the heels of his palms into his closed eyes. It was then he noticed for the first time since Murphy left that he’d been crying.

     Brought back to his senses, Adam discerned the light was the overheads in the teachers’ lounge. He’d sat so still for so long, the sensors had decided there was no longer anyone in the room and shut them off. It usually took at least twenty minutes of inactivity to initiate a shut off, and if Adam had been sitting in the dark long enough for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light (even if he didn’t realize himself that the lights had turned off) then that would mean…

     “Hey, Wyatt!” Adam surreptitiously wiped at the drying tears on his cheeks and carefully opened his eyes enough to glance at his watch. _Fuck._ He turned his face upward, blinking away the little swirls of color that remained on the edge of his vision from the sudden retinal assault, and took in his two teammates and fellow faculty members who had entered the lounge, triggering the lights and stopping the tumult that had been raging in his head. He should have been grateful for the respite, and normally he would have enjoyed their company, but all he could feel at the moment was tired agitation.

     “Haden. Garcia,” he greeted them, throwing each a small nod as he stood from the couch. His entire body ached and he took a second to stretch the best he could. “Good to see you, but I’ve got to run.” Adam walked to the kitchen and grabbed his bag off the counter where he’d left it to make hot chocolate earlier. Clamping down the guilt that danced obscenely in his gut about how he’d handled Murphy, he slung the strap over his shoulder and turned to find a wiry ball of energy blocking his way.

     “Hey, are you alright? You don’t look so good…” Officer Haden eyed him warily, waiting for Adam to respond. He wasn’t going to get much.

     “I’m fine. Just tired. Must have fallen asleep,” he said, gesturing to the couch with his chin. His grip on the satchel tightened with the impatience he was fighting to keep off his face.

     “Well that’s not like you.” Garcia joined them, taking in Adam’s appearance for herself, though she didn’t crowd him like Haden had. He didn’t need a mirror or Haden’s comments to know he looked awful.

     “I assure you, I do sleep.” _Sometimes_...

     Her eyes widened, taken aback from his tone, but then narrowed slightly in irritation. “You know that’s not what I meant.” The officer looked him up and down again, and her expression softened. “Rough night?”

     “You could say that,” he responded curtly, turning away from her gaze. _I have to get out of here_.

     Adam made his way to the door without another word, too aggravated to care about appearances. He just wanted to be alone. Some people, however, don’t attune well to the attitudes of others.

     “Rough, huh? I hope he was hot!”

     Adam stopped at Haden’s words. His arm had already been lifted to the lock, and it fell heavily to his side. _You hope he was…_ There was a moment, a small one, in which Adam felt nothing before anger suddenly sprung to life in his belly, heat spreading to every nerve in his body. His hands balled into fists, and he knew it was an extreme reaction, but his control had been thin already. Right then, he wanted to hit someone.

     Garcia beat him to it.

     Before Adam was even fully turned, he heard a distinct ‘umph’, and he completed the pivot to find Haden bent over slightly, hands wrapped around his stomach, and Garcia’s elbow still positioned to the side and behind her, clearly having used it to strike the other officer.

     “What the fuck, Garcia?” Haden sputtered. He was already pulling himself back up, so it must not have been as hard as it could have been. A part of Adam thought what a shame that was, but the piteous sight of the officer had served to smother the fire, and he decided to let it die out completely, breathing through the flames in his lungs until they quieted. “Who needs knives with elbows as sharp as yours, holy shi-”

     Just then, Haden’s eyes met Adam’s and he stopped himself, comprehension dawning on his face. Adam hated when people walked on eggshells around him. After the incident, everyone treated him like he was going to fall apart. To be fair, _he_ thought he was going to fall apart, but it still stung to see pity in every eye and sympathy in every smile, and to feel the timidness in every familial hug, like if they squeezed too hard he would break. He hated all of it. But right now, he was glad for it, if it meant he could get away faster.

     Haden stood straighter, one arm falling to the side, the other making its way up to the back of his head, scratching his hair sheepishly. “Sorry, Wyatt. That was...uncool. I shouldn’t have...yeah…” he finished lamely, looking out of the corner of his eye at Garcia, who was standing quietly next to him with her arms crossed over her chest. She was shorter than Haden -- who was just barely average height -- but damn if she couldn’t be twice as intimidating, especially now as she glared at him, completely unimpressed.  

     If he was a cadet apologizing to another student, Adam would have made him try again, but Adam didn’t want or need an apology to begin with. He was running on fumes and could feel the mental wall he’d hastily thrown up when the officers first entered continuing to crack. He looked at Garcia, and with her closed stance, dark hair, small frame, and daggered eyes, she reminded him so much of a certain pain in the ass teenager that Adam began to shake. He needed out of there now.

     Adam tried to forced a smile on his face, but all he managed was to not frown. “Fine. I really do have to go.” Without a second thought, he turned on his heel, disengaged the lock, and left, missing the look of concern the officers shared on his way out.

 

~~~~

 

     When Adam returned to his apartment that evening, he took off his boots and went straight to his room, taking off his coat on the way. He didn’t bother removing the rest of his uniform before he made for the bed, stripping off the dirty sheets like he had meant to that morning and replacing them with new ones. By the time that was done, he just barely had enough wherewithal to remember to remove his glasses before he slumped into the comforter, asleep before his head hit the pillow.

 

* * *

 

     The next day was more or less a blur. Adam slept deeply, but not at all peacefully, nightmares of shadows and dark planets, clear blue skies overcome with black clouds streaked with lightning, and warm hands that suddenly burned, searing into his flesh plagued him throughout the night, and when Adam woke early he found, once again, that his sheets were soaked through, and he couldn’t tell if the dampness on his face was just sweat, or if there were tears mixed in.

     When the alarm finally sounded, Adam rolled out of bed, threw the ruined sheets into the corner with the others, and shuffled through his morning routine. He somehow managed to not crash his car on the way to the Garrison, a small miracle to say the least, and he made it through security with no issue. He vaguely wondered if he would run into _her_ again, or one of the commanders, but a few thoughts about them were all he could manage as he blearily stumbled through the halls.

     Classes went off without a hitch. Well, mostly. There were a few dropped white board markers, a couple of knocked over thermoses, and quite a few toe stubs against some unsuspecting desks, but the students seemed to chalk it up to Adam’s usual clumsily adorable -- as he heard one girl describe him in a whisper -- behavior. It wasn’t until two classes had already ended that Adam started to feel the pricklings of anxiety, and it took another whole class for him to realize it was because after the half hour lunch break, his class with Murphy would commence.

     But when the meal time came and went and the bell rang in his last class of the day, Adam realized Murphy hadn’t taken his seat. He asked if anyone had seen the cadet that morning, and was told that he had visited the sick bay before lunch and was sent back to the dorms. No one knew more than that and Adam didn’t press. He wasn’t sure what he would have said to the boy, anyway.

_How about “Sorry”...?_

 

~~~~

 

_Dark wings silhouetted by grey clouds.  A field of yellow wheat under a violet sky flashing red as blood, then fading to a black void. Lighting cracks, blinding. An array of brown constellations splattered against a pale backdrop, freckled with stains of inadequacy. Mistrust. Betrayal. Regret. Loss. Hands slipping. A bright purple light._

_Falling._

_Falling._

_Falling._

_Crashing._

_Nothing._

 

~~~~

 

     Another sweaty, restless night, and Adam decided his classes would be watching a movie that day. A bone-deep chill followed in his wake, and Adam missed the numb he'd had the day before. He barely had enough energy to move, let alone teach. The bags under his eyes grew deeper, darker, and Adam could feel every white-knuckled clenching of his sheets, every gnawing of his lip, and every scream torn from his throat hours after he’d already woken. That is, if walking upright through a nightmare could be considered wakefulness.

     Murphy didn't show again, and Adam spent half the class wondering if he was avoiding him. The other half he spent nodding off in the back of the room, the dimmed lighting more than enough to overpower him as he drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

     Saturday came and when Adam woke, he was surprised but grateful to find he wasn’t lying in a pool of his own sweat, as he had been the last three days. He couldn’t remember dreaming anything at all, actually. _Maybe that’s a good sign?_ he wondered, fighting the heavy pull of his eyelids. He groggily, begrudgingly, moved, swinging his feet over the side of the bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he stood and stretched. He let his arms fall and he stared dazedly up at the ceiling, not quite grasping that he was awake just yet, his body even less eager to participate in some feigned effort of productivity.

     Birds chirped outside, and he spun around, momentarily offended at their chipper tune. As if life itself wasn't enjoying kicking the crap out of him, nature, too, had to taunt him.

     The fog that wafted through his brain decided he wanted to look out the window -- perhaps to flip a different kind of bird at the feathery fiends -- so he made his way to it, pulled back the curtains, and blinked rapidly as hazy light flooded his view. The street seemed hushed for a Saturday morning, giving Adam pause as he took in the city below.

     Life here was a far cry from the one he’d shared with Takashi on Garrison-owned land. There, the whole neighborhood knew each other, but no one _knew_ each other. They knew where their neighbors slept and worked. They knew what kind of car they drove. If there was a different car in the driveway, they knew that they had visitors. But aside from the few kids that lived there with their families who worked in the space program, it was basically a ghost town. Their neighbors went to work and they went home. They asked about each other’s day in that way that said they didn’t really care. They talked about the weather. They suggested getting together to watch some sport or other, knowing all too well there would never be an actual plan they had to commit to. He and Takashi had hated it, but they knew they weren’t going to get another single-family home in their price range, so they settled into the routine, and made a world for themselves within their four walls.

     In Plaht City it was different. Just looking through the little 20x20 window in the bedroom of his shoebox apartment, Adam could see more life than he would have in the span of a year in the old place. There were always people bustling, dodging bikes and cars while heading to work or meandering through the shops. So many voices floated through the air that it was impossible to pinpoint words, and Adam often found himself spacing out to the excited buzz that blanketed the street, at night letting the clamor soothe him into sleep. Hardly anyone knew each other here, so many people just passing-by, and yet one could never really feel alone. _Which is exactly why I chose this place_.

     Adam sighed, disappointed that his mind was turning down that road again, and he moved away from the window, his eyes searching for the clock on his bedside table. Realizing he hadn’t put his glasses on, he shuffled closer, and confusion replaced melancholy as he looked at the time. _6:30?…Well that would explain the lack of people outside...but why would I set the alarm this early on a Saturd -- Fuck._

     Adam groaned and brought his hands up to slap lightly against his cheeks a couple times, hoping the sting would rouse him ever so slightly for the day he was, in all honesty, not entirely prepared for. It didn’t help of course, and Adam seriously contemplated calling out. His body was a mass of knots and aches and he’d felt like he was just sleepwalking through life the last few days, unaware of anything except the fragmented Takashi memory marathon his brain was supplying, featuring Murphy-centric commercial breaks that either made him feel incredibly numb or incredibly sad. In the end, he thought better of it, though.

     He’d once been told if he planned to skip flight training, he had better be dying. Somehow, he didn’t really think dying inside counted.

 

* * *

 

     At 7:40, Adam pulled into the parking lot closest to the hangar. It was significantly less busy here than at the main entrance, and he appreciated that, having scarce time to change into his flight gear before he had to report. He locked the doors to his car and jogged to the building, pulling his ID out of the gym bag he carried with him. Once inside, he broke into another jog, not bothering to stop until he reached the locker rooms.

     Taking a deep and purposeful breath, he opened the door, expecting to find faces turned towards him and, even worse, small-talk hurled at him, but there was no one around. _Am I really that late_ ? He checked his watch, but when the time didn’t account for the lack of people, he checked the schedule posted on the wall. _Not cancelled..._ someone _should still be in here…_

     Deciding not to waste any more time, Adam shrugged it off and went for his locker. Much as he may have wanted to at the moment, he couldn't avoid them forever. He’d find out soon enough where everyone was, and he’d rather not be late if he could help it.

 

~~~~

 

     The hangar was large, large enough to house a few dozen fighter jets, several cargo ships, numerous hover bikes and humvees, a handful of slimmer airplanes and helicopters each, and even a few space exploration crafts, though the ones housed here were smaller -- there were larger, rocket-sized ones resting in a couple of other hangars within the Garrison.

     To accommodate these, of course, the currently wide open garage doors on the other side of the building were enormous. Godzilla could probably fit through them if he ever got tired of tormenting Tokyo. At least, that’s what Keith had said the first time Adam and Takashi had brought him here. The men had laughed, but something in the raven-haired child’s eyes made Adam wonder if the kid knew the old movie villain wasn’t real. A few more comments such as that, and a couple of shared glances between the couple later, and the men were met with a rapid-fire lecture at dinner on “other-worldly” beings, and supernatural and “advanced scientific” phenomena, which then prompted a scolding about how it was arrogant to think the intelligent life-forms we knew about were the only ones out there, and really, what was the point of a space exploration program if we weren’t even going to entertain the notion of extraterrestrial species. The speech led to a floored Adam -- after all, Keith wasn’t really much of a talker -- and a proud Takashi, his boyfriend ruffling Keith’s hair and encouraging him with more questions about his theories. Adam wasn’t sure he bought any of it, but at Keith’s excited smile and Takashi’s furrowed brow, determined to take in every single word, Adam felt content, and merely listened as the two debated well into the night.

     Being in the hangar always brought up similar memories for Adam. He’d taken leave for a couple of months after the incident, unable to be at the place where he and Takashi had met and fallen in love. When Takashi left for the mission, Adam had been determined to stay in the house they lived in, despite the financial strain, because he just wasn’t ready to give up on it. But when he’d gotten the news that the mission had failed, he took those two months and moved out without a second thought. He found his cramped one bedroom above CST, sold the property back to the Garrison, put the things he couldn’t take with him in storage or in a dumpster, and moved on the best he could. Something in him couldn’t face leaving the job, though, which meant learning how to enter the hangar without physically shaking. He was getting better at that, but he could still feel a twisting in his gut and a chill down his spine that had nothing to do with the breeze coming in from the open doors. Today, especially, Adam didn't want to be here, and as he felt his nails digging half-moons into his palms, he took an extra moment to collect himself and force the impending nausea back down.

     Lost in his head, it took Adam a moment to register the cluster of four men and women grouped to the side of the building next to a command booth. Spotting them, he made his way over to his fellow pilots, all outfitted in the same white, grey, and orange flight suit he was sporting, helmets tucked under their arms and chatting away the time before muster.

     “Garcia,” he greeted, a little anxiously, making his way over to the small woman standing slightly apart from the rest of the group. She seemed to be taking in the conversation more than participating in it, which was pretty standard for her, and pretty convenient for him -- he wasn't in the mood to  have everyone on him at once. “What’s going on? You all got out here early.”

     “Hey, Wyatt.” She moved her gaze from the people in front of her to fall onto Adam as he approached. A small smile spread on her face, her usual greeting, but her eyes held something more. _Caution, maybe?_ Remembering the last time they’d seen each other, back in the teachers’ lounge days ago, Adam felt a tight squeeze in his chest before he felt the stirrings of embarrassment for the way he acted, spurring the need to apologize for his rudeness. Before he could, though, Garcia was answering his question.

     “It’s Wildcat’s birthday, remember?” she said quietly, gesturing with a head tilt over her shoulder. Sure enough, Haden stood in the middle of the group, head thrown back in a laugh, hand clapped on Officer Walker’s -- or “Titan” as they called him -- shoulder. He’d placed his helmet on the ground and was holding a decorative box, and Adam recalled the engraved knife the unit had chipped in for, sure that it was nestled inside. Officer “Pegasus” Nelson stood with them, her broad shoulders shaking with mirth. Apparently, whatever the trio was discussing was amusing. “We were going to give it to him in the locker room, but since Haden’s girlfriend is in the booth today, the team thought it best if we brought the party out here. We would have waited for you, but...” she trailed off, eyes taking him in. “We weren’t sure you were going to make it. You looked like death on Wednesday, and no one’s really seen you much since then. Actually,” she added, “You still don’t look all that hot.”

     “Gee, thanks,” he answered, but he laughed with it, taking some of the bite out of his words, and her previously tense shoulders eased ever so slightly. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Like you said before, it’s just been a rough couple of days,” _Understatement, much?_ “But I’m coming out of it, I think. I can still fly.” Garcia looked doubtful, but she dropped the subject with a deferential grunt, and the two turned towards their squad, who were politely refusing a couple of water bottles from a woman dressed in the standard Garrison uniform. When she got to Haden, he too declined, but he did so with a quick kiss to her temple, and then he leaned over slightly to whisper in her ear. Her eyes widened a bit and she slapped his arm lightly, before turning away and returning to the booth, the corners of her mouth tilted high into her blushed cheeks. The display sent a sharp pain to Adam’s chest, and he did his best to ignore it. He could feel Garcia’s eyes on him, though, ever watchful. The woman missed nothing, even when the strife was internal.

     “Listen, Mantis, if you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’m going to have to request a change to your call sign.”

     She had the grace to look embarrassed, but he felt it was likely more because she was caught staring than because she was staring at all. “To what?” she asked, not even bothering to deny what she’d been doing.

     “Don’t know. ‘Hawkeye’, maybe? That’s got a decent ring to it. You do have the keenest eyes of the group.”

     “Isn’t that a comic book character?”

     “So is ‘Mantis’…”

     “You’ve been living above CST for too lo--”

     “Then again,” he interrupted her, recalling their encounter those few days before, “With your sharp elbows, maybe ‘Mantis’ is rather fitting. You do a lot of damage with those thi--” Adam dodged a blow from one of said elbows, ignoring the glare his companion gave him. “Seriously, though,” he said lowly when she settled, “Thank you for that. I’d had a -- God, ‘rough’ doesn’t even sound like a word anymore -- I had a _brutal_ day, and I might have hit him harder than I care to think about if you hadn’t stepped in. And he doesn’t deserve that, and neither of you deserved my being rude to you. I’m sorry.”

     His eyes trailed over to where the rest of the team was still talking, and Garcia’s followed. “Well, at least your apology is better than Haden’s,” she chuckled. “He didn’t mean anything by it, you know? He’s just dumb. But he means well. He was really concerned when you left, and not just because he’d realized he was being a moron.”

     “I know.”

     “Do you?” Adam returned his gaze to her to find that she was looking up at him, as well. “We’re more than just your team, Wyatt, and we know how off you’ve been. It was just more apparent the other day.” She sighed then, like she regretted even having to say the next bit. “We’re your friends. You don’t have to let us in if you don’t want to -- Lord knows I’m not exactly the best at communication -- but you don’t have to completely shut us out, either. Just...know we’re here. If you do want to talk, if you don’t want to talk...we’ve got your back.”

     She looked away from him and Adam stared, not quite sure what to say. Garcia hadn’t been kidding when she said she wasn’t great at communication, at least, not verbally. She spoke with actions, not words, and most of what they knew about her came from knowing her for several years, not because she volunteered the information. She preferred to stay on the perimeter of the group where possible, venturing further in only when she deemed necessary, or on one of her more outgoing days. No one minded, knowing that was where she was the most comfortable. However, when she did speak up, it was almost always something like this. Something reassuring. Encouraging. She might prefer to keep to the fringes, but she refused to let anyone else stay there for very long, always on patrol to make sure everyone stayed happy in the middle of the circle.

     It moved Adam that she cared enough about them, about _him_ , to step out, a lifeline when they needed it, and fuck did he need it. But he wasn't going to admit it. Not yet. He'd lost so much and, even though he knew what she said was true, he wasn't prepared to risk chasing his team away. _Like I chased Takashi away. Even Murphy…_

     He felt tears well behind his eyes and he coughed, willing them back. If the past few days had taught him anything, it was that if he started crying, he wouldn't stop. _I'm such a mess._ But he was a grateful mess and he struggled with a reply before finally settling on something simple, just the way she would like it. “Thank you, Garcia.”

     She smiled in response, and pointed in front of her with her chin. “Looks like they’ve noticed us, finally.”

     Adam turned to find their fellow team members coming their way, and he tucked away his problems for later. Now wasn't the time for sorrow. There was work to be done and a friend to celebrate, so he focused his attention to Haden. He was at the head of the three, a large smile on his face, but slight apprehension in his eyes, much like the way Garcia had regarded him when he first entered the hangar.

 _He still thinks I’m upset,_ he thought. _Am I?_ No, he wasn’t. What Haden said was crude and in poor taste, and he had the _worst_ timing imaginable, but, like Garcia said, he meant nothing by it. Where Garcia stayed on the fringes as a guardian to point stragglers home, Haden pulled people in with his infectious energy. Weird as it was, a lot of that came from his off putting humor and, Adam had to admit, were he not in such a bad mood the other day, he might have laughed at his companion’s comment. Maybe. Knowing that, he couldn’t allow his friend to doubt himself, so he returned Haden’s smile, happy to see his eyes soften to match his grin.

     “Hey! Wyatt! No more sub-parties!” he said, stepping up towards the two pilots. “One unit, one party!”

     “Not that you’d mind sneaking off with Officer Merryweather over there…” Nelson giggled. She was taller, broader than Haden, and he had to look up to glare at her.

     “Don’t you start, Pegasus! It’s my birthday! Let a guy have his fun...” he grumbled.

     “Yeah, I mean, he scrubbed extra hard and trimmed everywhere he could reach...made his birthday suit all special and everything…” Walker chimed in, looking up to the ceiling in innocence, as if he was completely unaware of what was coming.

     “Titan!” Haden exclaimed, face red, mortification clear on his face as the group exploded in laughter. “I told you that in confidence! No one needs to know that!” His hands flailed, flustered at what to say. “I thought you were on my side!” he hissed.

     “I am! I, for one, think your efforts should be appreciated.” It was truly impressive how neutral Walker could keep his face when he wanted to, not breaking once as the rest of the team bent over double at his facade and Haden’s distress.

     Haden just pouted, dismayed, as everyone’s bodies shook with laughter. Well, all except Walker, who was still feigning innocence. It took a very aggressive middle finger and a mumbled “I’m moving out,” from Haden before the big man cracked, his ebony muscles straining against his flight suit as he joined the rest of the team in their hysterics. When the man snorted a couple times, Haden joined in, too, the sound just as loud and large and genuine as everyone else’s. Even Adam, who had barely been able to function the last few days, felt a very different kind of tears roll down his cheeks, and felt how much his face was beginning to hurt with the burden his smile was putting on it.

     He straightened up with quite a bit of effort, and swiped at the drops under his glasses, clapping a hand to Haden’s shoulder as he did so. Still laughing, he held out his other hand to him. “Happy birthday, Wildcat!”

     His fellow pilot looked up at him, beaming, and shook his hand with unadulterated enthusiasm. “Thanks, Pantherlily!”

     Adam was so grateful to have this moment of peace, the first one he'd had in days, with his teammates -- his _friends_ \-- that he didn’t question why he wasn't trying to shut himself away right then. He didn't pay any attention to the depressive thoughts that still rattled in that little compartment he'd stored them in.

     Hell, he didn't even wince like he normally would at how stupid his call sign was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked! Comments and kudos appreciated!
> 
> As always, thank you everyone for reading! This fic is doing wonders for my anxiety, and ya'll are a big part of that!
> 
> My tumblr is midnight-disciple. Come say hi!
> 
> Next time: Adam is forced into confrontation!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions abound for Adam and his team when an unwelcome guest crashes their training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry, meant to post this earlier, but that 8-5 life is a struggle, my friends!   
> I've started to use some military jargon in here. Honestly, it's kind of a mishmosh of knowledge, and I'm going to just go ahead and say the military has evolved and taken parts of their structure and whatnot from all around the world. K? K.

     The unit was taking bets as to whether or not Haden’s plans with Merryweather that night would include dinner or if they’d skip straight to dessert when a voice behind Adam commanded, “Fall in!” 

     The five of them scrambled, Haden leaving his gift at the command booth before joining the others in line. They saluted, staring straight ahead, and Adam felt shock when he realized it wasn’t their immediate superior taking muster, but none other than Commander Hedrick.

     “Sound off!” the portly man shouted at them. “Wyatt!”

     “Sir, here, sir!” he managed past his confusion. He didn’t need to look around to know his teammates shared his bewilderment. He could feel their discontent for Hedrick as they stood shoulder to shoulder.

     “Garcia!”

     “Here, sir!” the woman answered to his right. Down the line they continued until Walker’s deep voice signaled the final sound off, and they were told they could relax. None of them did.

     “As you can see,” the commander began, pacing before them, his cold eyes taking them all in. They seemed especially harsh today, and Adam couldn’t stop himself from wondering why. “Flight Lieutenant Mann is not present today. He’s been called for a meeting with the Admiral and will be absent for the duration of your training this morning. I will be supervising in his stead.” 

     Haden coughed a few shoulders down from him, and Adam swore he was using it to cover a groan. Hedrick wasn’t as ball-busting as, say, Iverson, or even Mann, but he was never a  _ pleasure _ to work with. He was the kind of “leader” who would sit quietly and let you make a fool of yourself before giving back-handed compliments or passive-aggressive taunts. For someone so singularly focused on calculations and results, he didn’t give two shits about being constructive. It was frustrating and exhausting, and every one of them knew it was going to be a long morning.  _ Great. Just what I needed. _

     “Flying Officer Wyatt!”

     “Sir!” Adam responded, stepping forward. Hedrick regarded him, moving close enough that he could smell his breath.

     “Keeping out of trouble, I trust?” he sneered. Adam really couldn’t wait for training to end. 

     “Sir, yes, sir!”

     “Good,” he said, taking a step out Adam’s personal space. Raising his voice, he announced, “You’ll be flying solo today.”

     Adam’s eyes widened.  _ What the hell does that mean? _

     “Sir, permission to speak?” Nelson asked.

     “Granted.”

     Nelson stepped forward, in line with Adam. “Commander Hedrick, sir, if Officer Wyatt is to fly by himself, what are your orders for the rest of us?”

     Hedrick walked to Nelson and invaded her space, much like he had Adam’s, but he was so close to her that his protruding stomach grazed against her arm. Adam felt Garcia tense behind him, and he didn’t blame her, his own hand at his side curling combatively. In the field, Hendrick could be aggravating, sometimes astronomically so, however, he never felt quite so  _ menacing _ as he did now, and he  _ never _ crossed physical lines with his subordinates. Yet, there he was, pressed against his junior, one step away from a harassment complaint.  _ He seems less in control today… _

     “Oh, you’ll be flying today, too, Officer Nelson,” he finally answered. “Just, not with him.” He stepped away so he could stand in front of the whole team again, addressing them all at once. 

     “Today’s drills will pit the pilot officers against your flying officer, four to one.” A few confused murmurs slipped out before they could help it. “I see I’ll need to explain,” Hedrick said as he began to pace in front of them again. “I realize you’re used to flying as a team. That’s all well and good, but as Flight Lieutenant Mann is not here, I am taking the opportunity to assess individual strength. As the highest ranking pilot among you, if barely, I would like to see Officer Wyatt’s.” Hedrick turned all his attention to him, a sickening, almost murderous smile on his lips, and Adam felt the intent of it like a smack across the face.

     “There will be three separate drills today, one each to test your speed, agility, and marksmanship. The only individual score that matters is Wyatt’s. The rest of you need only beat him. All of you. It doesn’t matter which place you come in, your only goal is for him to be last. There will be an additional exercise at the end of our session, as well. A sort of game, for all your hard work.” He smiled again, and Adam knew this “game” of Hedrick’s was going to be anything but fun.

     “Before we start,” the commander added, “you’ll need to warm up. It’ll be a long morning, after all. Three laps up and down the runway should be sufficient.”  _ That’s about six miles. Not great, at all, but I expected worse from him. _ “Oh,” Hedrick added, sadistic voice dripping off his tongue, “and you’ll be running the same stretch between each drill, so you might want to pace yourselves.” 

     Adam waited for the punchline. Some indication that this was some sort of sick joke.  _ Nearly twenty-four miles? On top of drills? Is he fucking kidding? _ Looking at the commander’s face, he knew the answer to that.

     “Begin.”

 

* * *

 

     “What...the fuck...did you do to him?” Haden panted. They’d just reached the end of the runway for the third time and were taking a second to catch their breath as a team before making their way back. Hedrick was pitting them against each other during the drills, but he’d put no regulations on these barbaric runs he was making them do, so they had unspokenly stuck together, jogging as a group down the runway. They’d stayed quiet until then, saving their breath, but he knew it wouldn’t last. Someone was bound to ask the question, and it was quite obvious that he was the target of whatever cruel game Hedrick was playing.

     “Nothing,” Adam replied. It was the truth. He didn’t do anything that would warrant this, and he  _ especially _ didn’t do anything that would drag his entire team into this. “I think...I think maybe he thinks I’ve done something I didn’t.”

     “Alright, then,” Walker qualified as they started moving again, “What does he  _ think _ you did?” 

     Adam didn’t really have an answer to that. It had something to do with their encounter in the hallway the other day, that much was obvious. But Adam had made his lame excuses and left. He hadn’t seen the commander since, and he’d done nothing that had anything to do with him, either. So, he answered the only way he could. “I have no idea.”

     “Bullshit.” Haden breathed, and Nelson grunted in agreement.

     “It’s not bullshit, it’s true. You know...how he is. He...he’s always suspicious of everyone. I ran into him the...the other day.” Adam stopped his explanation a moment to collect his breath. He wasn’t used to doing cardio while talking. “He was having a conversation I guess he didn’t want people to hear. So, maybe...maybe that’s your answer, Walker. Maybe he thinks I heard him.”

     “Did you?” Nelson asked. It was a good question, a fair question. Adam recalled the snippets that had floated to him as he stood in the hallway. He had technically heard the conversation, but not all of it, and not enough to know what any of it meant.

     “No,” was all he said.

     “You must have,” Haden insisted. “You were clearly...close enough to…spook him. You had to have... heard something.”

     “I didn’t,” he answered, tone clearly suggesting they drop the subject.

     There were no more questions for the next mile or so, during which Adam’s nerves steadily frayed further and further. He could feel the eyes of his teammates on him, and resisted the urge to pick up his pace. Instinct told him to run away from the attention, that it was dangerous. He flashed back to all the times he’d walked into a room just to have people stop talking, and know with complete certainty that they were talking about him. He remembered all the times he walked the halls of the Garrison, every eye focused elsewhere, until they thought he wasn’t paying attention. Then it was like he was a magnet, and irises of every color were drawn to him. 

     Adam felt his adrenaline spike, anxiety starting to claw its way back into his lungs, putting further strain on his breathing. He tripped over his own feet, and he would have fallen if not for a pair of small, smooth hands that were at his side instantly, grabbing his arm, and pulling him upright. He looked to his right to find Garcia matching him stride for stride, which couldn’t have been easy for her, considering the height difference. She was pushing herself more than she needed to be, but you wouldn’t know it looking at her. She seemed completely unphased, maybe even less winded than the rest of them, the only indication of distress being the tight line of her mouth, forming a deep and unsettling frown. Adam shot her an appreciative smile, but her eyes stayed fixed ahead of her, and she showed no sign that she noticed. 

     Just as they were reaching the end of the runway, Garcia spoke for the first time since they began running. She still wouldn’t look at him, and Adam only knew her question was directed at him because she spoke low enough that only he would hear. “Does this have anything to do with why you’ve been...distant?”

     Adam thought about it. Most of his instability the last few days was because of his unresolved feelings for Takashi and his confrontation with Murphy. But that encounter with Iverson and Hedrick had thrown him off his game, there was no doubt about it. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized those questions still lingered in him.

     “It’s...a part of it. But it wasn’t...a big part of it. Not until now.”

     “Hm.”

     They reached the end then, and fell into line before Hedrick again, and he took them in with a smile that actually reached his eyes. He was either appreciating how worn they looked or was anticipating how ragged they were going to be before day’s end. Either way, Adam thought the Garrison needed to improve their background checks -- they had clearly hired a psychopath.

 

* * *

     “Pantherlily, here. Everyone sound off. Mantis.”

     “Here.”

     “Wildcat.”

     “Roger.”

     “Pegasus.”

     “Here.”

     “Titan.”

     “I read you, Pantherlily.”

     “Great. Everyone hold tight for the signal.” Adam put himself on mute for a minute, not that it mattered. No one was talking. He let his head tilt back to rest against the back of his seat, the effects of his lack of sleep weighing on him. They’d been told they were starting with a speed drill. It was a simple enough test. They were each given coordinates in different directions to a location one thousand miles away -- their fighters could go forty-five hundred miles an hour -- from their starting point. They’d fly there, they’d fly back, all while being monitored by the analyst on duty. Whoever made it back first had the best score. If Adam came in last, it was strongly implied it would count against him. A few minutes ago, he’d flown to his starting point on the opposite side of the Garrison from the hangar, and he didn’t miss that he was the one flying against the wind.

     Adam started to feel his eyes grow heavy, and instinctively went to move his glasses so he could rub at them. Realizing he had already removed the glasses and that the helmet would block his fingers, he let his hand fall and sighed, rolling his neck in small circles. He felt strange without the glasses. He’d worn spectacles since he was six, and when the Garrison offered to fix up his eyes, he refused. He’d grown attached to the feeling of the frames on his skin, and even now he could feel the phantom weight of them. The surgery just felt unnecessary, considering with the right settings the visor of the helmet improved your sight by a dozen feet, anyway. Though, if Adam’s vision had been any poorer, it would have been required.

     Sighing again, Adam unmuted himself. “Everyone good? Should get the signal any minute now.” Silence greeted him, and he was just starting to wonder if something was blocking his transmission when a hesitant voice answered him.

     “Um...Pantherlily...what are you talking about?” Nelson asked.

     “The signal to start...” He heard a quiet string of curses in Spanish, and knew it was Garcia.

     “The signal was given thirty seconds ago. Didn’t you hear Hedrick?”

     Adam started throwing out curses to match Garcia’s.  _ That asshole. _

     He shot forward without a second thought.

 

* * *

     Nelson won the speed round, unsurprisingly. She’d been the fastest among them since day one, this time coming in a full thirty seconds before Haden, and Walker came in about ten seconds after him. As Adam approached seven seconds later, he could sense he’d be the last one in but, somehow, he managed to beat Garcia by three seconds. When he asked if she had any delays, she merely shrugged and said a bird flew in front of her, throwing her off.

     Climbing down from his fighter, Adam pulled off his helmet and left it on the wing. He wouldn’t need it until the next drill, and he needed to get ready to run again. As he stretched with the rest of the team, Hedrick approached him, and he stood at attention, swallowing back any sourness that would show in his voice. The rest of the team followed suit.

     “You seemed to have a late start there. Any problems with your jet?” the commander asked, sweetly.

     “Sir, no, sir, she flew beautifully,” he began. “Might have a problem with the comm system, though. I missed your Go signal. Seems to be working now, though.” Adam put so much sugar into his voice, he thought his teeth would rot. Hedrick’s smile wilted slightly, and he left, a nod his only salutation.

     “Be careful,” Garcia breathed next to him as they took off. He didn’t answer, too frustrated to find words, The team ran in silence the entire way.

 

* * *

 

     When they returned, the training posts had been erected, large rings at the top of each. Low arches were also standing periodically between the poles, no doubt there for the pilots to fly under.  _ Agility, next, huh? Alright… _ The rules were simple again. Three circuits around the course, no touching the obstacles or ground. Any infraction was a ten second penalty. First to complete the course with the least amount of contact penalties won. 

     They climbed into their jets and lined up one by one behind the starting line. Walker went first, navigating the rings fairly well, but struggling a bit with the arches. He managed to clip his wing on two of them before he finished. Nelson was next. She did great until the very end, grazing the last arch, which threw off her trajectory for the last ring, which she flew wide of. Haden completed the course third to perfection, without a single contact penalty.

     Just as Adam approached the line, Hedrick’s voice came over the comms. “Oh, because Pantherlily is a higher rank, I’m going to instill a handicap for his run.” Just as Adam was wondering what the fuck that could mean, the rings started moving, some oscillating, others spinning, and Adam felt a surge of anger at the unfairness of this new twist.

     He was a good pilot. He knew it. He also knew that it would be near impossible to navigate the moving obstacles without sacrificing time. The only thing that kept him from snapping was the fact that this new stunt of Hedrick’s proved he knew that Adam was a skilled pilot, too. Impatience wore on him as he took the air.

     He cleared the first three rings without issue, but he almost clipped on the fourth one, misjudging how quickly he’d need to lose altitude in order to make it under the first arch. He dove, trusting in his instincts, trusting in a move he’d made several times before, as he watched himself get closer and closer to the ground. 

     At the last possible second, Adam pulled out of the dive, and he could feel his heart in his throat as he flew under the structure, immediately pulling back on the controls to take to the skies again. He forgot about the time, about his team, about Hedrick, even about the last few days, focused solely on the adrenaline in his veins, the thrum beneath his fingers, and on the rings and arches as he weaved in and out at break-neck speed. On the second lap around the course, Adam could identify the patterns in their movements, and before he knew it, he cleared the last ring and touched down next to Haden, Nelson, and Walker.

     It was only when he was climbing out of the fighter that he realized the two men were waiting for him below, their excitement plain as day.

     As soon as his feet hit the tarmac, Haden was on him, followed closely by Walker, a hand held high in the air. Adam’s palm connected with his for a high-five, and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning at the others. 

     “I didn’t know you could fly like  _ that _ , Pantherlily! You didn’t get a single penalty and beat my time, even with the handicap!” he said, as Walker held his fist out for Adam to bump with his own. “How’d you do that?”

     Adam chuckled at his enthusiasm, exhilaration still prominent throughout himself. “Patience.”

     “Amazing,” he muttered, as they turned back to the course. Adam noted the rings had stopped moving as he watched Garcia start her last lap, and was informed by Nelson, who had been watching from the start, that she had just barely grazed the first arch and had been fine since then. When she finished, she pulled in next to the other fighters and climbed down to a smatter of applause, to which she turned a bright shade of pink, probably about sixty percent embarrassment, forty percent pleasure.

     The self-congratulations were short lived, however. 

 

* * *

     They found Hedrick waiting for them as they approached the runway, ready for their next miles, and they fell in line without waiting to be told. The commander approached, and his scowl became more apparent, all sense of humor gone from him as he regarded the team. Adam kept his face neutral, ready for the latest vindictive act to rear its ugly head.

     “We’re done for now.”

      Adam blinked once, slowly. Twice. A third time, for good measure. When he was positive he heard correctly, he glanced out of the corner of his eyes at his comrades. They’d all gone incredibly stiff beside him. He wasn’t the only one in disbelief.

      Haden was the first to break the silence, requesting permission to speak. When he was acknowledged, he stepped forward, hesitance barely noticeable, but there all the same. “Sir?” he asked, “I thought there was a marksmanship drill left. And the ‘game’? Are we taking a break?”

     It didn’t seem possible, but Hedrick’s scowl seemed to deepen, and when he answered, it was clearly with reluctance. “No. I don’t give breaks. I’ve been called in to the Admiral’s office. We’re done for the day, I’ve seen all I need to, anyway. You’re all dismissed. Except you, Wyatt,” he added, as they all turned a little too eagerly back to the hangar. His team seemed to pause a moment, looking to Adam. He nodded his head imperceptibly, and they turned away, jogging back towards the doors.  

     His attention turned towards Hedrick once again, and the two stood in silence, the commander unwilling to speak, the officer with nothing to say. The quiet stretched between them, and Adam began to wonder if this was some sort of test, or some strategy meant to drive him insane. Finally, Hedrick’s voice broke through the air.

     “You’re wondering why I singled you out today.”

     “No, sir.”

     “Because you believe the reason I said earlier, because you already know what the reason is, or because you just don’t care?” Adam didn’t have to think about the question. He knew the answer. He just had to think about how to respond. In the end, he was honest, because he didn’t have the energy or the drive to be anything else.

     “I know it has something to do with my running into you and Commander Iverson the other day. I just don’t know why, and I don’t care. At least, I wouldn’t have, if you hadn’t put my team through the ringer with me.” 

     Hedrick smiled and looked down, putting his hands in his pockets as he gave a short chuckle. “Walk with me.”

     Before Adam could respond, Hedrick was already walking past him in the direction the others had gone. He debated walking in the opposite direction just out of spite, but, against his better judgement, he followed, his long legs bringing him even with the commander in seconds.

     “What Commander Iverson and I were discussing is on a need-to-know basis. And right now, you don’t need to know. The problem, then, is that  _ I _ don’t know if you  _ do _ know. And I don’t like not knowing things. It..irks me.” A dark shadow fell across his face as he said that, and Adam felt the same energy he had when Hedrick first addressed the group.  _ Danger _ , his instincts warned.

     “I promise, I don’t know anything, Commander,” Adam placated, trying to chase that shadow from his face.

     “I wish I believed that. You may not know consciously, but I could see it in your eyes that day, even if Iverson was too dense to notice...you heard something and it stirred something.”

     Adam furrowed his brow. The confrontation  _ had _ stirred something in him. Questions. Endless questions. But below all that, just out of reach, he knew the answer was there. He knew it, but he couldn’t get to it. He couldn’t say how it ended up there, just that it was. It existed, and it was beyond frustrating that it wouldn’t make itself more known.

     He didn’t even realize he had stopped walking until Hedrick’s green eyes entered his field of view.

     “There it is…” he said, taking a step back from Adam, his hands joining together in front of his face, like he was ready to say a prayer. “Knowledge. The awareness that there is some to be had, the frustration at having it already and not being able to interpret it, and the desire, oh the desire, to do anything in the world to get rid of it. Knowledge is such a terrifyingly beautiful burden isn’t it?” Adam wasn’t sure how to respond, not just to Hedrick’s words, but to the blissed out expression that had overcome his features. “Disturbing” didn’t seem a strong enough word at the moment.

     “I’m not sure what you want from me.”

     The man hummed, actually  _ hummed _ , before walking away. Adam stayed behind him this time, his body erupting in goosebumps.  _ He’s unhinging... _

     “Things are going to change soon, Wyatt. You feel it, don’t you? The calm before the storm. It’s everywhere.” Hedrick stopped just before the hangar doors, turning to face Adam again. “I wasn’t lying about why I singled you out today. Not really. Yes, it had to do with my conversation with Iverson, but you overhearing it made me want to test your strength. I love tests, you see, especially when the results are so singularly important. Do you know what question I wanted you to answer for me?” Adam shook his head. He wanted to leave so badly, but his feet wouldn’t move. He was frozen in place, Hedrick’s madness weighing him to the ground. “I’ve had days to review my conversation. Days to ponder what it was you heard. Days to contemplate the implications of you knowing the things I know. So the question is simple, really: Are you a threat to me?”

     Adam didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. It was rhetorical, and he knew the commander already had his answer. He had said as much.

     “And you know what I have decided? You are not. Do you know why? Because of  _ doubt. _ I tested two things today: You as a pilot, and your relationship with your team. You look at them like they’re some sort of light in the dark, Garcia in particular. I can see why; I know she threw the speed challenge for you. You’re protective of them, as well, as I saw from your bristling when I got too close to Nelson, or when you said you cared more about them being dragged into this than yourself. But you don’t trust them, not really. If you did, you would have told them why I was messing with you, and I could tell by their expressions you didn’t, at least not fully. You doubt them, even if you don’t realize.

     As a pilot, you’re sure of your physical skills -- you’d have to be in order to pull off those magnificent dives. But it’s detached. You get a thrill from flying, sure, it’s an adrenaline rush...but it’s not a passion, is it? You felt agitation at my tactics, but you had no desire to win or to prove yourself or to better yourself, only to get through the obstacles, to end the training. I saw no conviction.”

     Hedrick looked at him then, really looked him. Stared at him in that way Adam knew, as if he was looking into his soul. “I wonder if, deep down, you wonder the same thing I do. If you doubt the same part of you that I doubt in you. Where is that passion, that spark?...Did it disappear with Officer Shirogane?”

     Adam froze, and it wasn't because of the name Hedrick had so casually thrown out, after Adam had struggled so helplessly over it for days. It was because he knew what he meant now, what doubt had buried itself like a seed inside his heart, growing ever taller with every tear he shed, every spark of light he let through, only for it to be snuffed out by misery or disappointment or an even brighter light fueled by a burning anger. He couldn’t look away from those pools of green, and when Hedrick asked the next question, he knew it was one he’d been asking himself for two years.

     “Officer Wyatt...what are you even doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hedrick, am I right?
> 
> Let me know how you felt about the chapter with comments and kudos! Curious about these call signs? Bursting with feels about the impending Dec. 14th release? Or hey, anyone watch The Seven Deadly Sins on Netflix? Let's talk!
> 
> You can also always chat with me on my tumblr: midnight-disciple!
> 
> Thanks for reading and thank Squishy and Trash Panda for catching me when I stumble (both in this fic and out)!
> 
> Next Time: Flashback!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to Adam's first adventure with Shiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I know it's been a really long time since I posted...and I'm sorry. I went through some depression, lost my grandmother, moved a few hours away, had to find a new job...suffice to say it's been a bit rough lately. But I promise I haven't lost motivation for this piece. Even though it may not be as relevant since the show ended, I still really want to tell this story, and I'm hoping to update regularly now that I'm more or less settled in my new place.
> 
> Anyway, I hope this super long chapter filled with pure Adashi fluff is enough to get you to forgive me!

     When Adam was fourteen, nearly fifteen, he walked into his father’s office and declared he would be applying to the Garrison. His grades were phenomenal, the best in the county, and he knew, one day, he could make a spectacular researcher or analyst. He’d grown up with stories about the War from his grandfather, and his father served in the military as well, so he knew the value of history, strategy, and strength. He listened intently, more or less, to the extra-curricular lessons his father would teach him and his sister, Desta, after dinner, and he’d drill the facts into his head as best he could, delighting in the look of pride his father gave him when he knew it all by heart.

     His mother, on the other hand, told him stories from years ago, long before the War, of when people used to make wishes on falling stars and stare longingly at the moon, believing that they held something magical within them. Adam knew that was ridiculous, really, but, looking at his mother while she spoke, at the soft eyes and content smile, a small part of him felt a little unsure. It instilled in him a need to know, to see for himself what was so incredibly special about them.

     The first time he stepped into a flight simulator, he exceeded many expectations, including his own. Adam knew he was smart and capable, even that he had leadership potential -- he was his father’s son, afterall. But behind the controls he had a grace and dexterity that just refused to translate to his day-to-day life, that no one would ever guess he possessed by looking at him. And yet, it held nothing for him. He practiced in the simulator because he had to, as part of the requirements of the program. Nothing more.

     His roommate was hell-bent on changing that.

………

     “Adam?”

     “Hmm?

     “ _ Adam _ ?”

     “What?”

     “Adam!”

     “ _ What _ ?” Adam turned his body around in his seat at his desk, glaring at his roommate who, until twenty seconds ago, had been spinning around in his own chair, balancing a pencil on his nose while throwing gummy bears in the air to catch in his mouth. Adam had watched out of the corner of his eyes for the first fifteen or so tosses, but when the pencil stayed put and every single fruit flavored mammal landed precisely on his tongue, he started to feel agitated and went back to his studying. That agitation came back as he stared at his apparently attention-starved friend.

     “What do you want, Shiro?” he huffed. “This is our study time. You agreed you’d work on the Physics homework if I helped you with the basics. You grasped them well, so what’s the problem?”

     “I’m done,” he shrugged. He’d stopped spinning, but was rocking his upper body forward and back, keeping the pencil poised as it rolled across the bridge of his nose. “And I’m bored.” 

_      Show-off _ .

     “You’re done? You answered every single question?” Adam asked dubiously, getting up and walking over to Shiro’s desk, sliding the notebook closer to himself so he could check the answers.

     “Yes, Mom, every single one.” He slumped over his desk to lean his head on the smooth finish, allowing the pencil to roll off his face and travel across the surface until it hit his textbook. “Can we do something else now?”

     Adam finished skimming over his roommate’s work, smirking into the face pouting up at him. “Nope. You got four of them wrong. Try again.”

     “What! No!” Shiro exclaimed, snatching the book away to see for himself, groaning as Adam returned to his seat. He started bouncing his knee as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I’m never going to get this.”

     “Yes, you will. You’ve worked hard, but you have to keep working at it, you know that. You have to be patient. Patience yields focus. Focus yields results.” When Shiro rolled his eyes and shook his head, Adam had already started to turn back to his own work, but he didn’t miss the small smile that tugged at the sides of his friend’s lips.

     “You know, I really wish your dad never taught you that phrase. These hand-me-down lectures of his can be a real pain,” Shiro chuckled, settling back into his desk. “Alright. Let’s rock this!”

     It was Adam’s turn to laugh as he returned his attention to his textbook, writing down important dates and names for his History class. For thirty minutes, the only sounds that permeated the air were of pencils scratching on paper, the sharp squeal of a highlighter dragging across a page, and the absent-minded tapping of his roommate’s foot to an old song Adam recognized was from the mid-late 20th century. He didn’t stray much from what was popular music-wise, but he’d discovered Shiro had an eclectic taste in it, always wanting to share a new song he’d discovered. Adam was pretty sure this one was about rocks and mud or something.  _ Cans? Maybe cans...I think Shiro was talking about queens when he played me this one? That doesn’t make sense...Why don’t I remember? Oh right, that was the day he got his new flippy haircut, so I was looking at that… _

     A loud bang nearly made Adam fall out of his chair, and he clutched his chest, momentarily forgetting how to breathe. He looked around at Shiro, who was staring at him with a wide grin on his face, practically bouncing in his seat.

     “Ha! I did it this time, check again!” he said, holding out the notebook to him.

     “Sure, yeah, just give me a heart attack and then make me do work for you. Seems fair.” But Adam fought not to smile as he took the notebook anyway, eyes flitting across the page to focus solely on the ones that were incorrect before. When he got to the end, he felt how impressed he was, and then, almost immediately how terribly dismayed.

     Schooling his face, Adam handed back the notebook, careful not to give anything away as he gave Shiro a simple, “Passable,” picked up his highlighter, and stared down at his textbook. 

     “Wait, what? Did I mess up again?” Adam gave a sideways glance and saw his roommate frown down at his work, his lips moving wordlessly as he read the formulas to himself. “This all seems right to me…”

     “Does it?” Adam asked innocently, the corner of his mouth twitching imperceptibly with the effort of staying neutral.

     “Yeah, it...wait.” Shiro leaned closer to Adam, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Adam...are you messing with me?”

     “Why would you think that?” he evaded, uselessly.

     “Why won’t you look at me?” he countered. 

     “I’m reading.”

     “No you’re not, your eyes aren’t moving.” Adam sighed and looked properly at Shiro, who was staring at him with a quirked brow and a devilish smirk. Adam raised a brow of his own, all aloof to Shiro’s sass. But Adam’s desire to avoid the inflation of Shiro’s head was nothing compared to the other boy’s determination to be right, and in the end he ended up laughing enough that he thought he felt his face go warm under his companion’s gaze.

     “Fine, fine, fine,” he waved, allowing himself to admire Shiro’s work, “It’s all correct. I just wanted to keep your ego in check for a little bit,” he chuckled. 

     “Ego?” he asked, and Adam could have sworn he looked a little crestfallen. “You think I have a big ego?” He definitely seemed unhappy then, his voice going softer, eyes glued to the book he still held in his hands. Adam wasn’t sure what to say.

     “A little bit,” he answered, noting how Shiro frowned at that. “But it’s not big, not really. And you’ve earned it.” His friend looked up at that, eyebrow cocked slightly, this time in confusion. “Like I said, you’ve worked hard. You get to be proud of yourself, you know?” Adam laughed nervously, not really sure if he should continue. “I was just kidding when I said I was trying to keep you in check. If anything, I was just trying to make myself feel better.”

     Shiro straightened a little in his seat, head tilted to the side, almost reminding Adam of a dog who finds his owner to be behaving curiously. “What do you mean?”

     “I mean, well, you’ve worked so hard that you’ve made it look effortless. It’s kind of intimidating. Not that that’s bad!” he added quickly, “I just mean that in the last nine months, I’ve watched you ace everything under the sun while I’ve just kind of done average here. I thought I’d be doing better than that.”

     “You are.”

     “Maybe. But I’m still behind you in so many things. I don’t need to be the best at everything, I mean, half the things you like I don’t really care for anyway, but I was really happy when you asked me to help you, you know? And then you understood it so quickly, I didn’t get the chance to feel proud of myself. I guess I’m just a little jealous. Pretty petty, huh?” He looked at the highlighter he still held, a self-deprecating smile spreading across his face. They sat in silence for a while, and Adam thought he’d never answer.  _ Because he doesn’t have to… _

     “Let’s go practice.”

_      Uhhhhh…what? _ “Practice?”

     “Yeah, let’s go!” Shiro leapt from his chair and held his hand out to Adam, who stared at it dumbly. His eyes flicked between it and the grinning teenager in front of him, still trying to figure out where he was going with this.

     “Go...where? What are we practicing?”

     Shiro feigned a large sigh and held his hand even closer. “Flying, of course!” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It wasn’t.

     Adam looked from him to the clock hanging on their wall. “It’s 21:00, Shiro. The simulators are closed down for the night. Not to mention curfew is in like thirty minutes…”

     “We’ll be fine, come on!” And with that, Shiro took Adam’s hand and pulled him from his desk, pausing only a moment to grab their IDs, before he pulled him from the room, as well.

     “This is ridiculous,” Adam hissed every time they turned a corner. But his friend never let go of his hand and he let himself get dragged along, the slightest bit of curiosity keeping him from turning back. Tuesday nights weren’t exactly known as being rambunctious, so the halls were pretty much empty, most of their fellow cadets already shut away in their rooms. He waved meekly at one or two stragglers who looked curiously --  _ Or was that knowingly? _ \-- at the two boys, but when they reached the end of a hallway and turned left instead of right, Adam came to a halt, forcing Shiro to stop with him.

     “Um, Dude? Where are you going? The simulators are that way,” he said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder, “I thought we were practicing flying.”

     Shiro turned to face him, looking very exasperated. Adam would have returned the look, but he was too confused to try. It must have shown on his face, because Shiro finally gave him a straight answer.

     “We are...we just have to leave the building to do so. Look,” he said, turning so he faced Adam fully, “You want to be better, right? You’re not going to get there in a simulator or with the drones, and we don’t start in the practice jets until the end of the semester. So, come on!” he tugged on the hand he hadn’t dropped the entire time they were walking, “Let’s see how good you really are! Unless you’re scared…” Adam knew Shiro was taunting him just so he’d move, and part of him really wanted to go for it, but he still hesitated. His friend noticed, and the cocky smirk he’d been sporting softened. “Adam, we’re sixteen. We’re supposed to do stuff like this. I promise I’m not taking you anywhere that you’d hate, but I’ll be honest, if the wrong person catches us we could get in trouble, so I won’t be mad if you want to go back to the dorm. I’ll go with you, and I’ll even let you force me to do more homework.”

     “It’s not really forcing you if you let --”

     “ _ But _ ,” Shiro cut off Adam’s half-hearted mumble, “If you come with me, I promise it’ll be fun, and that it’ll be worth it, and that I’ll never make you do it again if you don’t want to.” He smirked again, and Adam frowned. He let go of Shiro, and the boy looked a little disappointed, but Adam held his hand out again, this time poised to shake his. 

     “You really promise?” 

     The smile returned and he grabbed Adam’s offered hand. “Promise!” he shook on it.

     “Good.” Adam beamed and, before Shiro could protest, Adam turned him around by the hand and took the lead, navigating them to the exit. Shiro started giggling behind him and, though he never stopped to look, he could imagine the face the boy held when he was truly excited about something, and Adam felt himself smile.

     “How are we going to get back in,” he asked, as they stepped out into the cool desert night. “If we’re not back before lock-down, the doors won’t open for us until morning.”

     “Don’t worry,” Shiro breathed, wiggling his eyebrows. “I know a guy.” And with that, he ran off, making for the main gate, yelling behind him for Adam to catch up. He barely had time to roll his eyes at Shiro’s retreating back before he was following, hand extended, racing to be even with his friend.

 

* * *

      They ended up in a quiet, rather nondescript neighborhood -- one of the ones the Garrison owned. The houses all looked pretty much the same, though the one they had stopped in front of had a hand-painted “Beware of Dog” sign in the front, complete with a rather graphic depiction of what would happen to trespassers, as well as chalk drawings on the pavement of the driveway. Adam could tell from the light of the streetlamp that the unsteady squiggles and shapes were all formulas and graphs and… _ Is that binary? _ They seemed to even be color-coordinated. It gave the house a homey, if altogether strange, feel. 

     Not that Adam could fully appreciate it at that particular moment.

     “Christ, Shiro, did we really need to run the whole way?” he panted, bent over, clutching at his knees and indescribably grateful that his roommate had finally stopped moving. 

     “ _ I _ ran the whole way,” Shiro huffed next to him, just as out of breath as Adam. “ _ You _ spent half the time falling on your butt.”

     “I did  _ not _ !” he yelped, offended, and he fought the urge to wipe dirt off the back of his pants.

     “Fine, you didn’t.”

     “Thank you.”

     “Some of that time you were falling on your knees.” Adam, who had just been wiping at the material over his knees, glared at his friend, and Shiro straight up cackled, this time bent over in laughter, rather than exertion. It lightened Adam’s heart, and he found himself joining him, until the two were holding each other up by the shoulders. After a few minutes, Shiro wiped at the tears that were resting in the corners of his eyes, and pushed away from Adam, causing the teen to fall over again. He looked up through his askew glasses, stunned for a moment, and then they both lost themselves again in a fit of riotous giggles.

     “Shiro? Wyatt? What are you boys doing here?”

     Adam sobered quickly, embarrassed at being caught rolling around on the ground laughing, and stood at attention at the approach of his superior.

     “Commander Holt, sir!” he greeted the tall, barely-greying man. Shiro had explained to him on the way where they were headed, and at the time he didn’t really question it.  _ Stupid adrenaline _ . Now, though, showing up unannounced to the commander’s home seemed like a terrible idea, indeed. 

     “Calm down, Adam, he’s off duty. Isn’t that right, Sam?”

     Commander Holt chuckled and held his hands out in front of him, as if to push away Adam’s gesture. “Relax, Wyatt, there’s no need for formalities here.” Adam let his arm down and relaxed his posture, though he still felt a little odd with the casualness. Despite his words, Commander Holt turned to Shiro with a stern look. “And you,” he said, gesturing towards Adam as he stared down his friend, “Could learn a thing or two about respecting your elders from your friend here.” 

     Shiro straightened and apologized as Adam snickered to himself. The commander, seeming satisfied enough, shifted his attention to include both boys as he again asked what they were doing there. At this, Shiro rolled his eyes.

     “Ah come on, Sam! You always act like you don’t know why I’m here. The bike! Please, let us take her out!” Shiro practically whined, and as Adam watched him, he could see him buzzing with energy, as if his excitement was a tangible thing, a blanket coating his entire being. He’d never seen his friend smile like that before. It was...nice.

     Commander Holt --  _ Sam? _ \-- looked from one to the other of them, and his voice was stern when he addressed Shiro. “And here I thought it was just to visit...That was supposed to be a secret,” he stated simply, his eyes sliding to the side to take in Adam, almost assessing. But, despite the tone he used, Adam didn’t miss the glimmer of mischief his eyes held.

     “I know, I know,” Shiro quickly acknowledged. “And I’m sorry, but,” he paused, stealing a glance at Adam, “I think he could use this.” He started to feel slightly offended, but let the feeling roll off of him and stayed silent. He wanted to know what the big deal with the bike was. Shiro had explained  _ where _ they were headed and  _ who _ would be there, but he hadn’t said anything about a bike. Just that there was something he really needed to see and the commander was the only one he knew of that could help them on short notice.

     The commander nodded his head knowingly, his index finger tapping pensively against his chin. “Alright,” he finally replied. “Just don’t tell Matt if you see him. I’m not letting him ride it until he’s fifteen. He’s already miffed that I let you on it. I don’t even want to think about the shrieking I’d have to endure if he found out about Wyatt.” With a chuckle and a wave of his hand, he turned and started walking towards the house, Shiro following closely behind. When he realized that Adam wasn’t moving, however, still feeling a little uneasy about how fast-paced and mysterious his night had become, he returned to him and, with a reassuring smile, placed his hand lightly on Adam’s shoulder. 

     “Last chance,” Shiro offered. “If we sprint, we might be able to make it back before curfew. Though, I’m not sure you’re even capable of running without tripping…” The comment was meant to make Adam laugh, and that’s exactly what he did, albeit nowhere near as rambunctiously as they had been earlier. 

     He shook his head with a grin on his face and peered towards Shiro at his side, whose expression was sincere and soft. He really wanted to show this to Adam, so much so that the anticipation rolled off him in waves, and yet he was completely serious about turning back for his sake. The gesture eased the tightness in his stomach, the tight, clamped coil now more like little springs bouncing inside of him. He felt nervous as he looked at Shiro, but underneath it was a pronounced calm. Adam wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but he knew that now wasn’t the time to chicken out of whatever they were doing. Though he never saw himself admitting it out loud, he trusted Shiro, and maybe it was time Adam showed him that.

     With an exaggerated sigh and a teasing roll of his eyes, Adam shoved his shoulder lightly against Shiro’s. “Lead the way,” he prompted, gesturing towards where the commander was waiting for them in front of a tall fence on the side of his house. He received a beaming smile and a quick clap to the back in response before Shiro did exactly as Adam had bid, leading them the short way across the yard to the gate and towards whatever little secret he wanted to share with him.

 

* * *

     “Alright, you two stay here,” the commander ordered when they found themselves standing outside his locked garage. “The keycard’s in the house, so I’ll grab it and be out in a minute. Just, try not to be too loud. Katie’s window is open and Colleen just got her to sleep. I’m too tired to be getting in any more arguments with a six-year old tonight.”

     “Oh yeah, kids rarely make sense,” Shiro sympathized.

     “ _ She _ makes sense, Shiro.  _ Too _ much sense.” He shook his head and turned in the direction of his house, muttering, “I’ve created a monster,” as he went in a tone that could have been fear, exasperation, or pride. It was truly anyone’s guess.

     Shiro whistled lowly, capturing Adam’s attention. When they made eye contact, he just shrugged and explained, “Parenthood is really something, I guess.”

     Adam’s laugh was as soft as the smile Shiro relaxed into when the sound escaped him. He felt his mouth go just a little dry at the look and he glanced away, his eyes fixating on the door to the garage. “So...I’m guessing the bike is in there,” he inquired, head tilting slightly towards the structure.

     “Oh, yeah, she’s in there. A real beauty, too.” Shiro’s face lit up at the thought of it, his eyes wide and excited. “Sam’s been fixing her up for a few months now. He lets me do the test driving, mostly because I beg him. Every time I take her out, I don’t think she can ever run smoother than she did the time before. And every time I am completely wrong. I normally hate that, but in her case, I’ve made an exception.”

     “How long have you been doing the testing? And isn’t that a little dangerous?” Adam asked, slightly apprehensive at the thought of Shiro getting thrown off due to some sort of malfunction.

     “Oh, don’t worry about that. Sam already had her running really well before I came along. I’ve only been coming around for a month or so on the weekends. I was out walking and saw Sam struggling with a box full of parts, so I stopped to help him carry it back to the garage. I had to leave the box outside, so I didn’t make it in right away, but I wanted to know what all those parts were for, so I kept coming back. Eventually he decided to trust me, but he made me swear not to tell anyone about the bike because the Garrison doesn’t really like the idea of Sam having a workshop in his garage - something about his work having a tendency to short-circuit the neighborhood - but the bike is really mundane compared to some of the other things he gets into, I suspect.”

     “And suspect is all you will ever do.” The commander reappeared, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes and keycard in hand.

     “I’m surprised you even let a troublemaker like Shiro into your workspace, Commander,” Adam commented as the man made his way to the door, causing Shiro to stick his tongue out and throw a teasing glare his way.

     “Please, Wyatt, you may as well call me ‘Sam’, too. And have you ever tried to say ‘no’ to Shiro when he’s determined?”  

     Adam thought back to the events that had led him here tonight as the man swiped his card in the reader and punched a string of numbers into the pad. He felt himself grin broadly. “Ah yes,” he said through a chuckle, “You have my sympathies, Comman -- I mean -- Sam.”

     “Hey! No he does not! No you do not!” Shiro exclaimed as the now laughing commander turned the handle and opened the door wide, allowing them to enter ahead of him. “Why would he need sympathy? I am a delight! And I contribute to his work!”

     Adam attempted to ‘shush’ him as they entered the garage, remembering there was a sleeping child nearby, but was having trouble making the sound around his giggles. Behind them, he could hear Sam attempting to stifle his own amusement in the darkness as he made for the light switch.

     “Yes, true, but you also tried to break into my workspace three times before I let you in,” he pointed out.

     “ _ What _ ?!” Adam exclaimed, turning in Shiro’s general direction. “That’s  _ so _ illegal!”

     “Calm down, Adam, Sam’s exaggerating. I never tried to break in. I opened  _ one _ already partially cracked window to the garage  _ one _ time because I thought I heard a cat trying to get out and I felt bad for it.”

     Sam snorted somewhere to their right. “Ahuh. And the time I came home and caught you trying to slip Matt a twenty behind the house?”

     “I told you, he was hungry and wanted a pizza. I was  _ feeding _ your  _ child _ . You should be thanking me!” 

     “Of course my personal favorite,” Sam continued, glossing over Shiro’s obviously well-used explanation, “Was when I caught him in the tree that sits over the fence with a notepad and binoculars, trying to catch me while I punched in the passcode.” Shiro’s distressed groan became a choked startle as Sam finally flicked on the light. Adam was momentarily blinded but would have given anything to see Shiro’s face at the moment. “I turned and waved to him while by the garage, and he was so shocked he - he fell - off his branch and - and onto the sidewalk!” Sam guffawed, wiping a mirthful tear from under the rim of his glasses. For Adam’s part, he was torn between laughter and concern, but quickly settled on the former as his eyes adjusted and he caught sight of his friend’s flustered face, beet-red and eyebrows furrowed. It was undeniably adorable. 

     “Let me guess,” Adam ventured around his own chuckles, “Bird watching?”

     Sam’s laughter grew and Shiro’s perturbed expression morphed into something closer to bashfulness. “No...I think I said...um…”

     “He said he was ‘learning how to fly’,” Sam cackled, leaning against a shelf affixed to the wall for support. Adam lost any sort of control he might have been trying to maintain and matched Sam’s enthusiasm, releasing a couple of unrestrained snorts between his soundless gasps of laughter, almost missing how Shiro’s expression softened contentedly.

     “Hey, I had a slight concussion,” he said, but there was no bite to his voice, merely a begrudging fondness - most likely for the memory.

     “Sounds like - sounds like maybe - maybe you earned it,” Adam stocatoed, doing his best to relearn how to breathe.

     “Oh he did,” Sam contributed, straightening as his own laughter died down, though there was no mistaking the gaiety that now asserted itself in every age line surrounding his eyes. “But I figured, after that, maybe he’d also earned a little give from me. It’s not often I meet kids as...committed...as young Shirogane here. So, after a trip to the hospital and some blackberry ice cream, I brought him back here and taught him the rules, which I will now teach you.”

     Sam positioned himself so he was between the boys and the rest of his workspace, turning to them so that his back faced the rest of the room. “Number one,” he started, hands on his hips, “No touching anything that I do not expressly give you permission to touch.”  _ Doesn’t seem like there’s that much to mess with in here, anyway…  _ Adam thought as he glanced around the garage. A large object he could only assume was the famous bike stood at the back of the room, blanketed by a grease-covered sheet. On one wall hung all manner of tools and equipment you would expect to see in a garage, and the remaining walls were lined with metal shelves, all of which seemed to house a number of boxes filled with, what looked like, spare parts. There was a large workbench in the middle of the room with a soldering iron and some sort of circuit board, as well as a small table that held small metal bits and what almost looked like surgical tools. A pair of welding goggles sat atop one of three stools that stood to the side next to a ventilation shaft stretching from the floor to the ceiling. Adam listened to the air flowing through and found himself a little disappointed. He was definitely expecting something more akin to the laboratory of a mad scientist, considering how stringently Sam kept the inside a secret from Shiro, and the latter’s comment about the commander short-circuiting the neighborhood.

     “Number two:” Sam continued, as Adam returned his attention to the man. “If I tell you to exit the garage, you do so without question or hesitation. My insurance can’t take a hit just because you two want to dilly-dally while the building’s exploding.”

     “ _ What? _ ” Adam exclaimed, whipping his head around to look incredulously between the commander and a bored-looking Shiro.  _ What the hell has the potential to explode in here? _ Sam, however, didn’t bother to pause his recitation for explanations.

     “And lastly, that room,” he indicated, pointing to a metal door in the floor, hidden just enough by the workbench that Adam had missed it before, “Is off-limits. I’d say ‘don’t even think about going down there,’ but the command would be wasted on Shiro, so just don’t try it. I’m fairly certain the only reason he hasn’t is because I told him the security is tighter than the entrance to the garage.”

     “Hey, I learned my lesson from the tree incident. Plus, I achieved my objective of getting in here. I’m not greedy enough to need to know all your secrets,” Shiro explained, holding his hands out in front of him, open and innocent. “I’m just here to visit my girl, that’s it,” he added. Sam rolled his eyes and, without further ado, started for the back of the room. As soon as his back was turned, though, Shiro whispered with a wicked grin, “I never made it passed the eye-scanner.” 

     Before Adam could react with anything more than a look of incredulity, his friend bounded off to catch up to their commander, leaving him to shake his head and emit a gentle huff of laughter as he, again, followed that ever-retreating back. 

     As Shiro approached him, Sam made to pull the stained sheet off the bulky machinery, and Shiro all but smacked his hand away in protest. A silent battle of wills commenced between the two, daggers flaring from playfully narrowed eyes as Adam got closer, until finally Sam simply grumbled and found a place to lean against the wall while the teen bounced on the balls of his feet, enjoying his victory and the anticipation of finally showing off “his girl”.

     “Alright, let’s see the bike,” Adam prompted when he was about two feet away from it.

     “You could maybe try to sound a  _ little _ more enthusiastic about it. You came all the way out here to see her after all.”

     “Actually,” Adam corrected, as he folded his arms across his chest and sighed in defeat. “I came all the way out here because for some reason I just can’t say ‘no’ to you.” 

     Shiro, looking much too pleased at the revelation, took the opportunity to command, “Great! Then, drum roll, please!”

     “No. Oh hey, look, I’m cured!”

     The look of betrayal on Shiro’s face caused Sam to bark a second in laughter, and Adam himself was having a hard time not outwardly grinning.

     “You’re not funny,” his friend said, narrowing his eyes, only enhancing the comedy.

     “I’m a little funny.”

     Shiro seemed to consider that for a moment, and then dropped his head, sticking his hands into his pockets, and letting his shoulders slump. “You have your moments, but…”  _ Oh no, not this again _ , and before Adam could look away to protect himself, Shiro laid it on him - the puppy dog eyes. “I was sort of hoping this could be  _ my _ moment?” he finished, pouted lips and all. 

     Adam tried. He really did, but he was and always would be a sucker for puppy dog eyes. So, without further ado, he started slapping his hands against his thighs in the appropriate rhythm until, chest puffed out in pride, Shiro whipped the sheet off the bike with a flourish.

     “Ta-da!” He exclaimed, and Adam let out a low, involuntary whistle. He didn’t, admittedly, know much about hoverbikes, but he knew a piece of well-built machinery when he saw one. This was bulkier than newer models, which were sleeker by design to increase speed and agility, but it was sturdy, and had been buffed and shined to perfection. He noted the attachments that were secured to the body, half-sure that they weren’t standard issue, and wondered what the exact modifications were that Sam had made to it.

     “Nice,” Adam offered, eyes drifting over the black and chrome finishes, catching Shiro’s rather offended-looking reflection in its sheen.

     “Really? Nice? That’s it?”

     “It’s...really nice?” 

     Shiro let his mouth flap uselessly as Sam snickered behind him. Finally, he settled on merely leaning on the bike, patting the seat, as he soothed “Don’t worry, Kaz, he doesn’t mean it, you’re beautiful.”

     “Kaz?” Adam asked, making eye-contact with Sam.

     “Don’t ask me, I named it Project #180580l.”

     “Which is  _ much _ too impersonal, so I renamed her. Plus, I never remembered the number correctly…” Shiro mused as Adam let out a small snort of amusement.

     “Alright, but why “Kaz”?”

     “It’s short for “Kazane”! In Japanese, the name roughly translates to ‘the sound the wind makes’ or ‘sound of the wind’. Pretty cool right? More than that, though, it’s appropriate for my girl. Just wait until you see her in action!” 

     “Hold on, Shiro,” Sam chimed as Shiro plucked the keys and two pairs of goggles off the nearest shelf. “I have reports to finish, so I won’t be going with you tonight, but I expect you back by 23:00. Now, the last thing I need is the Garrison catching you two riding that thing in a residential area, so you will  _ walk _ the bike to the canyon and back, you hear?”

     “Always do, Sam.”

     “You can stay the night, but we’re going back to the dorms  _ first thing _ in the morning. If you’re not up by 05:00, Colleen  _ will _ sick the dog on you.”

     “Got it, we will avoid the drool,” Shiro acknowledged, opening the garage doors, which were surprisingly quiet in the still, night air. Sam’s doing, he suspected.

     “And Adam?” He turned from his position on the opposite side of the bike, already having started moving it outside. “Don’t let him do anything too reckless. He’s a show-off.” Acknowledging Sam’s rascally wink with a nod, Adam turned to look ahead once more, smile on his face and Shiro chatting away by his side.

 

* * *

 

     “...Have you ever been out here without Sam before?” Adam asked fifteen minutes later, letting his apprehension show as he stood at the edge of a cliff, staring downward at, what seemed like, much too far a distance to be considered safe.

     “Once, but never this late,” came the answer from behind him. Shiro was stuffing any personal belongings they happened to have when they set out that night into a compartment on the bike for safekeeping. “Don’t worry, though. Moon’s out, so there’s plenty of light.”

     “I’m not worried.”

     “He says, having been staring into a canyon, not moving, for two minutes.”

     “Excuse me for not wanting to die tonight.”

     “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” Adam felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and he let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He looked away from the landscape and noticed the goggles Shiro held. “I’m an ace pilot, after all.”

     “Oh, please.” Adam snorted at the cocky wink accompanying Shiro’s words as he took the goggles from his friend. “You’ve never flown an actual jet before. And I thought this practice was supposed to be for  _ me _ .”

     “Have you ever driven a hoverbike before?” Shiro asked, putting on his own goggles.

     “Well...no.”

     “Exactly. ‘ He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run…’ Or, in this case, learn to ride on the  _ back _ of a hoverbike,” he snickered, as they made their way back to where Shiro had left Kaz, the tension in Adam slowly receding.

     “Did you just quote Nietzsche?” 

     “Surprised?” Shiro asked, climbing up the bike, swinging his leg over with ease.

     “Actually...yes,” Adam admitted as his roommate laughed.

     “I know I’m not always serious about things, but it doesn’t mean I  _ can’t _ be. I’m serious... when I need to be.”

     “No, I know, it’s just…” Adam thought about his friend’s skills in the simulator, his work ethic, the way he could draw people to him, even just his taste in music, and he felt...something. “It’s just another facet of the Great Shiro to be impressed by,” he finished, voice as neutral as he could make it.

     Adam didn’t really know what he meant by his own words, but as Shiro’s smile faltered, he wished he could take them back. Instead, they went unaddressed as Shiro cleared his throat and continued. “It’s running late and there’s still something I want to show you, but if you’re not ready or don’t want to do this, we can just go back to the Holts’.

     “No!” he answered quickly. “I want to.” Shiro held his hand out to Adam to help him up the first step, and he realized he really did want to do this. He was still nervous, but some part of him knew he needed it, too. He trusted Shiro to take care of the rest.

     As he swung his leg over the other side, their hands unclasped and Shiro waited patiently as Adam adjusted his position as needed, letting him figure it out himself. Being up there, he felt higher up than he anticipated, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. He snapped his goggles in place over his eyes, a small thrill running through him.

     “Ready,” he updated, putting his arms around Shiro’s waist, prepared to hang on for dear life.

     “Huh,” Shiro huffed after a second.

     “What?”

     “Nothing. You just didn’t hesitate. About where to put your hands.”

     “I’ve seen movies. This is the only way I’ve seen backseat hold on. Should I let go?” he asked, already loosening his hold and looking around for some bars to grasp. Before he could get too far in his search, though, Shiro clarified.

     “No, definitely not. It’s just interesting. Nice. To not have to explain it, I mean. If anything, you should probably hold on tighter. I like to go fast,” he finished, starting the engine.

     “Why, how I’m sh-” he started, but his voice and breath alike were stolen as they took off, his arms grasping Shiro so tightly he thought he might bruise him. He couldn’t bring himself to let up, though, not yet, so instead he just shouted wordlessly, eyes closed, face buried into the back of Shiro’s shoulder.

     “You alright?” Shiro yelled back to him with an odd mixture of humor and worry, the sound of the wind rushing past them strong, nearly overpowering his voice.  _ Okay, well, I get the name ‘Kazane’ now… _

     “Slow down!” he yelled, and he did as he was asked, slowing down so that the roar of wind was quieter, closer to a purr, and he could hear Shiro more clearly.

      “Open your eyes, Adam.”

     Adam wasn’t sure he could, even if he wanted to. His arms and legs were locked, nearly shaking, and his eyes were screwed so tightly they may as well have been glued. The simulator was nothing like this. The flight images were realistic enough, but he never had this feeling in his stomach, never had his heart in his throat. Then, he felt the small squeeze to his wrist. He felt the reassurance that he knew was accompanied by words he couldn’t quite hear past the blood in his ears. That little bit helped him turn his head so that his face was no longer in Shiro’s back, but out towards the canyon they were heading through. All he had to do was open his eyes.

_      You’ve trusted him this far… _

     Shiro had been great. Yeah, he shanghaied him out of their room a little, but after that, he’d left everything up to Adam. He gave him every opportunity to go back to the dorms, or to the Holts’, and Adam chose every time to keep going. He asked if he was alright, if he was ready. He was patient. If Adam demanded they stop, he would. If he decided he did not want to open his eyes the rest of the way, Shiro wouldn’t pick on him for it. He trusted Shiro then. He trusted Shiro now.

     So he opened his eyes.

     Moonlight streamed through the night, casting shadows every now and again into the sands as they passed under uneven cliffs and rocks. The wind carried away the dirt picked up from the bike, the grains dancing low to the ground like fog that swirls onto the shore as ships make their way to harbor. As they sailed through the desert, Adam realized that, now that they’d slowed, and his heart wasn’t beating quite as hard as it had been, the bike itself made no noise. Sam must have modified it enough that, with his ear pressed to him, Adam could faintly hear Shiro breathe. He listened to it intently for a bit, watching the landscape drift by, until the sound calmed him enough that he felt his grip loosen as he lifted his head, taking in everything around him. It was...beautiful.

     “You alright?” Shiro asked again, placing another quick, reassuring hand to Adam’s wrist before bringing it back to the handles.

     “Yeah. Sorry I freaked out.”

     “Don’t be. I went too fast, it’s my fault.”

     “You did. But...that doesn’t mean you can’t go faster than this.”

     “You sure?” Shiro turned his head so fast, Adam was sure his neck was going to snap.

     “Only if you watch the road!”Adam laughed, a little breathless, gripping onto Shiro’s right side with a vengeance as he tentatively used his left hand to force Shiro to face front.

     “Technically we’re not on a road.”

     “Don’t make me turn this car around.”

     “Technically, this isn’t a car.”

     Adam groaned as he let his forehead flop onto Shiro’s shoulder again. “Just go faster before I change my mind.”

     “Alright, but let me know if it’s too much. We’re almost there.”

     Shiro sped up after that, though not nearly as fast as before, and Adam forced himself to not grip too hard and keep his eyes open. He felt the wind on his face and his hair caressing the back of his neck, and before long he felt his whole being buzz, exhilaration flooding his senses. He had never had this weightlessness in his stomach. His heart forced its way through his throat with a howl of delight. He felt Shiro’s body shake as he laughed and howled with him, the cry mingling effortlessly with the wind and his own. He was flying. It was amazing. The sight, the sound, the feeling, and the fact that all he had to do was open his eyes to find out how right he was -- the simulator truly was nothing like this.

 

* * *

     “That was  _ amazing _ !”

     “I hate to say ‘I told you so,’...”

     “No, you don’t.”

     “Alright, I don’t. I told you it would be fun.”

     “Yeah, but that was - we were -” Adam tried, as they slowed to a stop in the middle of nowhere. Lost for words, he simply dismounted, trying to grasp the feeling he’d just had. Shiro followed a second after, laughing to himself as he watched Adam struggle.

     “Yeah, I know. First time on a hoverbike is pretty incredible. But,” he smiled, “it’s only part of what makes it worth it.”

     “What do you mean?”

     “Look!” Shiro gestured, opening his arms wide, before he turned back to Kaz to retrieve something from the compartment.

     Adam did as he was told, looking away from his friend to take in the desert around them. The area was flatter than when they were in the depths of the canyon, but there was still a cliff on one side of the path they’d found themselves on. A few cacti sprouted here and there on the other, but otherwise it seemed like the stretch of sand they’d been on since they started. It was beautiful, with the sand reflecting the moonlight. Everything was still and peaceful, but he wasn’t sure what quite made it “worth it”.

     “So? What do you think?” Shiro asked as he returned with a bundle in hand.

     “It’s, um...great!” Adam improvised, to no avail.

     Shiro looked at him a moment, eyebrow raised, before he sighed and started unfurling what he now realized was a blanket onto the ground. He sat on it before he patted the ground next to him, inviting Adam to join. 

     “When I told you to look, what did you see?”

     “The desert, obviously.”

     “What about it?” 

     Adam shifted a little, feeling like he was taking a quiz. “The cliffs. The shadows. The sand, which, in the moonlight is really pretty, but I’m not really sure what --”

     “Adam,” Shiro stopped the ramble threatening the evening peace. “I didn’t bring you here to look at the moonlight. I brought you here to look at the  _ moon _ . Look  _ up _ , Wyatt.”

     Adam turned his eyes upward, gasping at what he saw.  _ The moon, indeed... _ It was full and bright and  _ huge _ . They must have somehow climbed during their travels because it felt like the moon was closer than ever. Not only that, but the stars around it glimmered and winked in the inky violet of the night sky, and in that moment the whole desert was thrown into enchantment, a net of crystals conjured before his eyes. A soft “Oh,” was all he could manage. But, somehow, he felt that was more than enough.

     “Why are you at the Garrison?” Shiro asked quietly beside him, and Adam momentarily looked to see that he had made himself comfortable, lying on his back, before he went back to his trance.

     “Why do you ask?”

     “Humor me.”

     “You know I want to be an analyst,” he sighed.

     “Why?”

     “I don’t know. I’d be good at it?” 

     Adam felt Shiro shift next to him, and then suddenly the sensation of him staring at the side of his head.

     “You know I don’t doubt that, but that is a terrible reason.” Before Adam could respond, Shiro asked again, “You didn’t answer my original question, though. Why the Garrison? You could have applied to a multitude of programs and gotten into every one. So, why here?”

     “I don’t suppose you’d settle for a statistical explanation?”

     “Nope.”

     Adam sighed again, and laid down next to his friend. They were silent for a spell, as Adam wrestled for an answer that was satisfactory. To Shiro or himself, he was starting to feel unsure. But as he stared up into the sky, he thought back to his mother, and the quiet nights they would share together when he was little, not unlike this one.

     “The moon,” he finally answered, a small smile spreading across his face. 

     “The moon?” 

     “Mm. When I was little, my mom and I used to stare out the window, or lay out in the yard together for hours. It was mostly just quiet “reflection time”, as she called it, but every time, without fail, she would tell me about the moon. About how it used to guide people home, or watch over them. Sometimes that it was some kind of ancient magic or something like that, and that people made wishes on it, and on falling stars. I didn’t really believe her, not about the magic, but she always seemed so happy when she talked about it. I wanted to know what was so special. And you know, the Garrison really does have the best space program.”

     Shiro chuckled at that last bit, and they lapsed again into a comfortable silence for a while. Adam hadn’t realized Shiro had been looking to respond until he said, “If that’s the case...I don’t understand.”

     “What?”

     “You.”

     “Now I don’t understand.”

     Shiro shifted from his back to his side so that he could look at Adam, who stayed still. He wasn’t ready to look away from the stars. “You’re always so focused. Studying, practicing. You said earlier you thought you were doing average here, but you’re not. You’re excelling. The only reason I was able to grasp the things you were teaching me so quickly was because  _ you _ were teaching me. Because you understand things  _ so _ much better than other people. So, if the one thing you want to understand that you don’t is the moon, why don’t you ever look at it? Why did I have to  _ tell you _ to look up?”

     “Because what’s the point of doing that?”

     “What?”

     Adam finally turned himself to look at Shiro, fighting against his irritation. “What’s the point? I won’t understand it anyway until I’ve learned everything about it and, by all accounts, that’s already been done. I’ve looked at Lunar cycles, tide charts, journals from any and every exploration, any piece of knowledge about the moon and it  _ still  _ can’t tell me anything. It still can’t tell me why it’s special.”

     “Look at it.” Adam stared at Shiro, determined not to do as he asked. At least, he did, until his roommate turned his head for him. “Look at it. Remember those nights with your mom. Remember how you felt when you first looked up tonight. I have  _ never _ seen you more at peace than I did then.  _ That _ is why it’s special. Your feelings for it, your experiences with it, how it affects  _ you _ . You don’t need to learn everything about something to understand it. Sometimes, that just makes it less special.”

     “Why do you care?”

     “Excuse me?”

     “Why do you care? Why do you care whether or not I look at the moon?”

     “Because I do! I don’t like seeing you doubt yourself and what you want or why you feel things. Jesus.” Shiro stood up and started pacing in front of the blanket. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that. I’m trying to be a good friend. I am!” he exclaimed as Adam sat up, scoffing. “And, as your friend, I’m telling you, if you want to get closer to the moon, then actually get closer to it.”

     That gave Adam pause. He hadn’t really thought about it like that before. 

     “You mean…?”

     “You shouldn’t be an analyst, Adam. Yeah, you’re good at it, the research and the statistics, and the science of it all. You’d be great. But you know what else you’d be great at?  _ Flying _ . I know that the simulators don’t really do it for you, but you’re a beast in them. I’ve never seen anyone more graceful. And tonight? You were so happy on Kazane, weren’t you? After you let yourself go? Flying gives you a thrill and the moon gives you peace. So a pilot? If you want to talk sense, nothing makes more than that.”

     Adam stared at Shiro for a long time, letting the silence grow between them as his fiiend sat back down on the blanket. Nothing Shiro had said just now was wrong, he knew that. But he couldn’t help feeling doubtful. Could he even be a pilot? Simulators were one thing, but a jet? Riding on a hoverbike, the back of one no less, wasn’t the same thing as  _ flying _ . But he did feel happier than he had since he started at the Garrison, there was no denying it. 

     “Shiro?”

     “Yeah?”

     “Thanks. For trying, I mean. I’ll think about what you said. And for tonight. I really do feel better than I have in a long time. You were right...I did need this.”

     “Always happy to help,” he said, finally lowering himself to the ground, laying himself down to look at the sky again. Adam laid down, too, enjoying the quiet and his friend’s company as he thought back on the events of the night. Which reminded him…

     “Shiro? What time is it?”

     Adam saw Shiro lift his arm out of the corner of his eye to look at the narrow black watch he always wore on his wrist, and chuckled as he dropped it back down to his side with a weary plop. “22:50,” he replied.

     “Didn’t Sam tell us to be back by 23:00?”

     “Yup.”

     “We are definitely not going to make that,” he said, eyes fixed on the moon, making no move to leave the little haven he’d found himself in.

     “Nope, we definitely are not.”

     “Why do I feel like you don’t really care if Sam gets mad?”

     “He’ll be fine. Colleen and that dog, on the other hand…” he laughed as he trailed off, his voice both softer and rougher in his comfort.

     “We should go.”

     Shiro sighed into the vast quiet, fatigue clearly keeping him in his place. “Five more minutes,” he nearly whispered.

     “Alright,” Adam allowed, content to let him rest. Three minutes past, and he thought Shiro had fallen asleep completely, judging by the slow rise and fall of his chest and the steadiness of his breath, so he was startled when his voice murmured next to him.

     “Adam?”

     “Yeah?”

     “Call me ‘Takashi’.”

     “Okay...Takashi.” He smiled to himself as, for the first time in a long time, he made a wish on a falling star.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the lighter story-telling :) I just really wanted there to be a soft moment for our two boys! And I've always had head-cannon that Shiro was a bit like Lance when he was younger, and I wanted to play with that a little. Let me know in comments and kudos how you felt!
> 
> And seriously, thank you so much to any readers who stuck it out through my super long hiatus. You guys really make this experience wonderful. And to any new readers, thanks for hopping in! I hope you like it enough to stay with me. I'll try my best to make it worth it.
> 
> My tumblr is midnight-disciple if anyone wants to message me there.
> 
> Next Time: Speaking of Lance, let's get some McClain action in here, huh?


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